


Book 2: The Monster At The End Of This Book

by mothraisnotapokemon



Series: In The Mouth Of Madness [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Curses, Dark, Graphic Violence, Mutilation, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Self-Mutilation, angst and a slightly happy ending, gore and supernatural, it wont be pretty, lies and manipulation, missuse of Supernatural, think horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 51,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothraisnotapokemon/pseuds/mothraisnotapokemon
Summary: The huntress was allowed to remain because a Hell Hound wanted her skin.  The Nogitsune wanted the one like itself, to keep itself hidden he gifted the huntress with a vision of the end. The huntress tried to stop it, almost succeeded but both had underestimated the willingness and price one was willing to keep what they loved safe.  All had forgotten how fear and love can be powerful weapons.
Prequel 2 of 4 to : In The Mouth of Madness





	1. The Dreamer

 

_In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs man's torments._  
\- Friedrich Nietzsche

 

Chapter 1: The Dreamer

…………………….then……

Peter wasn’t one who could recall his dreams, or the feelings that came from them.  He was unsure if he was even able to dream, he knew that he slept, woke and repeated the process.  He imagines that at one time in his life he might have been envious of those that did, until he dreamt that first dream at the age of 10. 

There had been nothing special about the day before, or changes in his routines.  It had been a perfectly average day, and average night, until he had woken up. Peter was one that took a few minutes to wake, before he was even partially coherent in the morning, but not this time.  When he opened his eyes, he was wide awake. 

He had laid there in bed for a moment, blinking as his mind scrambled to make sense of whatever it was that he had just dreamt, but his mind wasn’t working the way he wanted it to.  The dream had been confusing; blurry jumbled images with sounds that came from nowhere but seemed to be everywhere. 

He kept on trying to focus on the images; there had been three, a tree that seemed to grow taller and wider till it was blocking out the sun, a shadow that walked along the roots of that tree searching for something it claimed belonged to it and the last image was of bodies, bodies that hung from every branch of that growing tree.  He could hear still hear it, the voices, the whispers and the screams all echoing in his head.

_I didn’t want this. I’m scared. You owe all that you are to me, you cannot beat me! This isn’t real. I don’t want this._

He didn’t go back to sleep that night.  He rationalized what had happened and repeated, until he believed it, that his mother had been right; he shouldn’t have read those three books in the apocalypse trilogy. 

He thought nothing of it, because it never happened again, that month.

…………………now……..

Everyone knew about Beacon Hills. 

They knew the stories and legends that revolved around the history of Beacon Hills.  Even before it had been officially named Beacon Hills, it had a history of missing people, suicides and the occasional crazed mass murder.  For the longest time it was rumored to be cursed, later it was blamed on the geography of the region. One scientist published an article claiming much of the missing was due to the geography of the region. It was different than much of California, different weather patterns, climate and altitude. Beacon Hills was surrounded by miles upon miles of untouched and protected woods that dated back thousands of years. Then there was the coastal area, giant jagged cliffs that dropped into dark, rough seas.  No sailed there, the brave ones that tried, were pieces of pummeled and bloated flesh the coast guard found much later.  It wasn’t a curse, or monstrous dogs that some claimed inhabited the woods, it was just a dangerous area for those who came unprepared or lost their way.

 Even after the article, it did nothing to deter its usual visitors, the nature enthusiast, the curious and weekend sleuths, and paranormal enthusiast.

Now the attraction to Beacon Hills had gone global.

In the first few weeks, the media swarmed down on Beacon Hills. 

The media frenzy had quickly taken a disliking to the Stilinski’s, on camera deputy Stilinski had accused the media of being the real hazards in the investigation, since time and man power had at times been used to find missing reporters or cameraman who had wandered into the preserve, all were found alive, and disorientated.  Mrs. Stilinski when she was not being a shut-in, had ignored them, avoided them and when cornered had called the sheriff’s department, on camera calling them vultures. 

The media loved Rafael McCall and Martha Matthews.  Both were telling the same story, about corruption, negligence and a serial killer that was protected by an influential family.  What the media especially loved was what they had both stood for, The FBI agent that was determined to find and bring home his son, and the grieving mother determined to stand up against those far more powerful than her.

At least that had been the case before an unknown source leaked out some information, and the story and characters changed. 

Rafael was a known alcoholic and a documented abusive father and husband, who swore in front of several witnesses that his soon to be ex wife would never see a cent of child support, and how she would regret taking him to court.  The media began spinning the story of a father who had killed his own child, to avoid child support and get revenge of his soon to be ex wife. The two missing boys were known to be inseparable, sparking speculation that Gemin had been present and met his end trying to stop Rafael from killing Scott. 

After Rafael had been tried and found guilty in the court of public opinion, he had been called back to Washington, some of the media left, chasing after him and his impending internal affairs investigation.

Martha Mathews had continued to keep the media’s attention and sympathy till the Hale lawyer arrived. 

The Hales went into lock down, all communication handled by their lawyers.  It was easy to speculate their involvement. Then their lawyer issued a public statement that while polite and carefully worded had amounted to them publicly saying that while they sympathized with the Matthews grief, understood and accepted the need to blame someone. The Hales would not be held responsible for what a child with a history of mental and emotional problems did after being escorted back home to the very parents that let her out of their supervision in the first place.  The major news crews had left, seeing no other story but one of a girl whose past traumas had finally gotten the best of her. 

Smaller media chains had remained, leaving the Hales and all in their territory in lockdown.   

10 miles from Beacon Hills, along the coast there is an abandoned ghost town that shares a border with California and Oregon.  It no longer exists on any maps, its name and location forgotten but it still holds the marks and damage from the last and only time it had been inhabited. In one of the abandoned buildings, what could pass as the town hall, two Argents, siblings and the only children of Gerard Argent have returned to the States and are setting up their base of operation.

The Argents could trace their family lineage to the very Druid and Hunter that led the rebellion against the old ones.  With that linage, comes a connection to another family, the Hunter who led the rebellion came from an old family line, the Hale family. 

The Hales are the pedigree of Hell Hounds, members of their family were coveted, breed to be the guardians, warriors, companions, left hands and right hands to the old ones. One Hell Hound could decimate an entire army, one might be able to slow one down, but to stop one was impossible and they always traveled in packs.  It was the ancestor of the Argent, the hunter that turned the tides of war when they proved a Hell Hound could not only be wounded but killed. 

When the war ended, a truce between the survivors on each side was reached.  The remaining Hales took over a large portion of the area that would be California, and remained there today.  The Hales turned their territory into a safe haven to those who sought protection, or simply a place to live and raise their family, it was free of hunters and covens. The Hales and other larger remaining clans handled their own territories, in return the hunters and covens were allowed free reign everywhere else.  The Argents reluctantly allowed it, avoiding California and remaining in France, making sure to keep tabs on any who swore allegiance to the Hales and plan for the day when the old ones returned.

The shared lineage between the Hales and Argents is a double edged sword, while it makes the Argents faster, stronger on more than a few occasion caused the birth of abominations.  To the Argents those abominations, even ones born from them, are like the things they hunt.

 An Argent, never lets anything they hunt live.

Chris Argent knows the history of his family.  He understands the weight and responsibility attached to his name, but that won’t stop him from feeling sympathy for the wendigo they picked up from their earlier hunt. Chris takes in how young, small, dirty, scared and malnourished it is. It is too young to fend for itself, had probably been taught to stay hidden till its parents returned. Hunger had driven it out of hiding, had it stumbling upon them instead, as they burned the dead, its parents chard corpses had caused it to attack instead of fleeing in the direction of Hale territory.  It bares its main teeth at them, trying to look brave, but one can only appear so brave while chained to an electrified wire fence in the basement of the Argents current compound. 

Kate watches amused by the novelty of it.  When they normally find the ones this age, it’s either dead from starvation, has already started to eat itself or its den mates.  “Look how adorable it is Chris, struggling like it has a chance.” Kate tells Chris as her manicured nails tap on the control box for the fence. 

Chris tries not to frowns at her as she taunts the wendigo by pretending to turn the dial that controls the electrified fence; it lets out a muffled cry and flinch each time. In return, Chris can feel himself tense; it could be around the age of his own daughter he finds himself thinking. Kate notices his reaction to the wendigo reactions and laughs, “Really Chris?”  This time she does turns the dial, raising it just a little and the wendigo screams, sounding so much like a human child it makes Chris tense. Kate laughs, and raises it just a little more, making it scream louder, but Kate isn’t looking at the wendigo, she is staring at him. Taking in his reactions, smiling and it reminds Chris of their father, Chris swears he can even hear his father’s voice as she speaks.

“Don’t let it fool you, it may be able to mimic our sounds, even look like us, but underneath those tricks, it is still just a monster.”

Their father had been amazed at what electricity could do to the things they hunted.  Chris had been present for some of those experiments, even actively participated but those things had been adults.  Kate turns the dial, it doesn’t stop screaming and its skin continues to ripple like worms are under it as it continues to trash on the fence.  Both Argents watch till it stops moving, but it’s Kate who speaks once it looks at them.

“Maybe, it could be useful.”  She says sweetly. The wendigo watches Kate warily.  Kate smiles at it while she leans against the table her fingernails tapping on the dial, it flinches at each tap of her finger. It gives up on being brave and trying to cry silently.  “Maybe we would be nicer if it heard something we could use, especially if it is about the Hales. But if it doesn’t know anything, I always wanted to know how much electricity it takes before a wendigo will start to burn. I wonder how it will burn, a flash burn or maybe a flame burn.”

It looks at Chris, it cries like a child, it touches something in him.  Makes his think of his own daughter, for a moments Chris sees it as Alison, chained to the fence, sobbing and knowing that no one is going to save her, she’s going to die and it is going to hurt for a long time before she does.  Chris blinks and looks at his sister, she’s staring at him. 

“A witch,” It says between sobs, repeating what it had heard its own parents say. “a witch stole one of their mates.”

Kate smiles at it, but Chris knows that smile.  Before Kate can turn the dial, Chris pulls out his weapon and shoots it twice, once in the chest and in the head. It bounces then sways for a moment on the fence from the impact of the bullets, till it is just hanging there limp and broken.  Chris thinks that maybe his father is right; he’s gone soft since having Alison.

“I’m not cleaning up that mess.” Kate tells him.

Chris lowers his gun; staring at the bullet hole between its still open eyes.  He can hear his sister stomping out of the basement, the door shut behind her. Chris continues to stare; he suddenly wants to be somewhere that isn’t here.

…………………..

It’s the morning of the third day that Stiles has come to be, Peter is still unsure what to call it, but he avoids the word born.  That word has a specific meaning that he is quite content in refusing to acknowledge.  He also, rather thankfully does not have the time to dwell on all the reasons why he is so unwilling to acknowledge it. 

He also does not have even five minutes to use the restroom, alone.  Since Stiles has come to be and imprinted himself on Peter, Stiles clings, follows and has to have Peter in his line of sight at all times. Meaning Peter cannot go to restroom without Stiles trailing in after him.  So out of the need to have at least five minutes alone to use the restroom, he had left Stiles alone with Derek.  When he had entered the restroom, Stiles had been happily drawing and mumbling to himself with Derek lurking in the background.  That wasn’t what the case when he exited the restroom-which he had only been in for three minutes- he finds himself being blindsided by Stiles who barrels into him, clinging to his hip and crying loudly.  Derek, his nephew, the middle child and only son of his sister, is glaring at them with healing claw marks on one cheek. 

“What did you do?” Peter asks, knowing how very tired and put upon he sounds, because he is. 

As the adult in the situation, even if there is only a 5 year difference between himself and Derek, it means that Peter must remember to be the responsible one, the level headed one, the understanding one, and the non murderous one. Peter knows that based on Derek’s behavior towards Stiles, he shouldn’t have asked Derek to watch Stiles, but he just wanted to use the restroom alone. 

Since Stiles woke up, Derek has spent his time stalking, lurking, cornering and pining Stiles to walls, floors or chairs.  That is with others in the room; Peter does not want to linger on what Derek might have done when no one was there to intervene, in the three minutes Peter had been able to use the restroom.

“He kept trying to leave.” Derek snaps.

At the sound of Derek’s loud and angry voice, Stiles starts crying louder. Peter runs his hands over the bed headed mess of hair Stiles has started to refuse to let Peter comb.  Derek is glaring at that hand.

Peter would never deny that he enjoyed poking at his nephew’s jealous and possessive nature.  He had done it with Void, even pushed his nephew to far on some occasions, but it had always been funny watching Derek throw a tantrum.

 It was different with Stiles.

Derek and Peter had an interesting relationship.  They were to close in age, raised and treated more like brothers.  At times they could be close and inseparable, other times they were at each other’s throats, rivals in almost everything they did. They had always been competitive, and with no one there to mediate or distract them, and Stiles unknowingly fanning the flames, it was amazing neither had yet attacked the other.

“He wouldn’t stay, I told him to stay and he wasn’t listening. He kept trying to leave.” Derek hisses, eyes focused on the hand still stroking Stiles hair.

Peter can hear the unsaid me at the end of that sentence. He understands that this situation is difficult for Derek.  He really does.  Derek has to live with knowing that his mate choose another, was placed in the skin of the one that he had been betrayed for, and then his mate woke with no memory of Derek. 

Peter wants to offer Derek some type of comfort, but Derek won’t listen.  In Derek’s mind, Peter is the one that is keeping Derek and Stiles apart, because Peter wants Stiles.

It’s an uncomfortable situation for all of them. 

Stiles tugs on Peters shirt to get his attention, staring up at him with a trembling chin and pleading eyes. Peter sighs and lifts Stiles, a little clumsily given the weight and size change Stiles currently went through and holds the seven year old to him. “Stiles.” Peter says softly waiting for the boy to make eye contact with him.  “Derek is very sorry, and we must forgive him, because he was unfortunately raised without manners” Peter informs Stiles and mentally reminds himself again that he cannot kill his nephew, as Stiles nods and sniffles.  Peter starts to walk towards the suite doors, thinking a change of scenery, or the dining room and some type of snack will calm Stiles down. He doesn’t even get more than three steps before his nephew is running to get in front of them.

“Where are you taking him?” Derek snaps, standing between them and the doorway, looking prepared to lunge for Stiles if Peter tries to get past him.  “Why are you taking him out of our room?”

There’s a tone in his nephews voice, an accusation in his words, it makes Peter want to claw his nephews throat out, maybe tear his head off those tense shoulders and mount it on a trophy display, put a party hat on it and under it write, here lies dumbass. But he won’t do that to his reasonably upset nephew because Peter is an adult. He sighs, looking at Stiles who is staring at Derek, who looks a little hopeful when they make eye contact.   

“I can wiggle all my toes and fingers at the same time.” Stiles decides to inform Derek, feeling braver with Peter there.

Derek stares at Stiles and says nothing, but relaxes just a little.  That little is enough for Stiles to want down.  Peter sighs and places Stiles down, trying to not give in to his instinct of pulling Stiles away from Derek.  Stiles hesitantly walks towards Derek taking in the slight twitch of his fingers, and the tense ready to lunge signals the older boy is sending out, smiling hesitantly Stiles stops a good four feet away from Derek who is even standing as still as he can is still blocking the double doors, the only exit from the suite. 

Peter sighs as he watches. Stiles is blissfully unaware as he shows off his new trick-one that he had spent all day yesterday working on and today was finally able to do- to Derek, that Derek has slowly been herding Stiles into a corner using his body to create separation or the illusion of it, between Stiles and Peter. Peter knows when Stiles tries to look at Peter because Derek growls and moves in closer to Stiles who in response starts to panic and cry.  Derek being a caring and sensitive mate decides the perfect response is to presses in closer and growl. That reaction just has Stiles crying louder and trying to get away.  Derek grabs at Stiles when he successfully wiggles half of himself free from the hold. 

Peter sighs and stands reminding himself, again, that he is the adult, as he makes his way over to separate them, again.  Peter reaches between them, using one hand to push Derek off of Stiles and the other to pull Stiles towards him.  It’s not as simple as it sounds, Stiles goes easily, reaching out for Peter with both hands, Derek pushes back against the arm, he’s not as strong as Peter but he’s persistent and fights dirty. Derek latches onto Peter’s forearm with his teeth and claws, it keeps Peter from moving.  Peter may be able to heal but losing a large chuck of arm will hurt. 

Peter finds himself wondering if he can get away with murdering his nephew.  It would be quick, tear out his throat and then cut him in half, maybe turn his front half into a mounted trophy and sell it on the internet.  The tag line _giant failure_ written in bold, with the picture of that giant mounted head of a hound-his nephew-wearing the brightest and most god awful party hat that he could find. 

Stiles seeing Derek attack Peter and draw blood, out of loyalty, bravery or stupidity attacks Derek. He lunges under the arm Peter is using and straight at Derek’s shoulder.  His little but still sharp claws and teeth latching on to Derek’s shoulder, it has it’s desired effect, Derek lets go of Peter and stares wide eyes at Stiles before latching on to him, minus the claws and teeth, thankfully. 

Peter’s skin starts to stitch itself back together as he watches what he thinks might be considered a one sided hug.  Stiles still hasn’t let go of Derek, who seems awkwardly content given the situation.  Peter takes in a deep breath, and decides to take a seat, he deserves a break. 

……………….then……………..

Peter didn’t believe in coincidences. 

He lived in Beacon Hills, and is a member of the Hale Family.  He had learned from a young age the difference between the strange, accidental and the supernatural.  After the third month of having that dream, he was quite certain there was more to it than his tastes in literature. While the dreamed remained the same what bothered him the most was the new pieces being added each time. 

After last month, the second time he had experienced his dream, he had taken to writing everything about it down, but this time he needed to do something different, he needed to draw the new pieces that he had dreamed. He left his bed, no longer tired as he grabbed his pack of newsprint, sharpened pencils and cleared off his desk to begin. 

It was later, while he had been working on the last image, the hardest one to get right, that he felt like screaming out in frustration at his need to get that image right, perfect. He crumbles up the paper and throws it blindly in the direction of the waste basket.  He places his pencil down, rubbing his eyes uncaring at the smudges he is leaving behind, he is tired but he has to finish it.  He can see it in his head, the blurry image was there but there was one piece of clarity, one image that was so clear and bright.

He starts drawing again, starting at the boys eyes this time, those bright amber eyes.  This time he has the image right, at least the boy.  He puts his pencil down and stretches, suddenly aware of the noise in the house.  He can hear his nephew yelling at his niece, who once again reached the bathroom first. He can hear Laura telling Derek that she is the oldest, so she goes first.  He hears his doorknob turn; stares at the door watching it open and blinks at the concerned look on his sisters face. 

He doesn’t know that his mother had called for him; he doesn’t know that he is covered in smudged charcoal with a wild and crazed look in his eyes. 

“Peter, did you sleep at all?” Talia asks him, her tone so soft and gentle, meant to soothe.

He just stares at her and then shakes his head.  “I had to.” he tells her simply, to him it explained everything but to her, it doesn’t. She looks at where his trashcan had been, now covered in a mass pile of crumbled paper. 

She takes slow even paced steps towards him, if he was more lucid he might have felt insulted and proud that his sister was uncertain, afraid of what his reaction might be.  But, he is not.  It isn’t until she is close enough to see clearly what he is drawing, the closer she gets to him, to the boy-the drawing-the more the feeling of panic grows in his chest.  He places another paper on top of it, he can’t explain why but he can’t let them see the boy. 

“You should get some sleep.” She tells him, urging him away from his desk and towards his bed.  “Laura can get your homework.” He follows her, looking back at his desk, “Sleep first, then you can go back to your work.” He nods as she tucks him in, he looks back at the desk.  “Sleep.” She orders him, he tries to keep his eyes open, but the need to sleep takes that choice from him.  

 He falls asleep unknowing that his mother was at the doorway, once he falls asleep his sister nods, he misses his mother entering his room, looking through his notebook and the carefully pilled sketches he has, and finally the last one.  

The last drawing was of a hallway filled with shadows, all facing the wall but one, it was the largest shadow.  The largest and darkest shadow was trying to pull in a boy and an older man who was desperately clinging to the boy, trying to get them both away. 

………………….Now……………..Beacon Hills……………..

In Beacon Hills, almost a month has passed since Paige’s suicide and the disappearance of Gemin and Scott. To the Matthews, McCalls and Stilinski it seems that time and life has stopped, but to the rest of the world, life continued on. 

Lydia Martin, thanks to the events that have transpired is now a banshee.  Which had already been foreseen, but when she was older, had a better grasp of control.  Not at almost eight, Lydia herself would have preferred to never have been given this ability.  She is well aware that it is a trait, a gift past down to the females in her family, it had skipped her mother; she had believed it might skip her too.  It hadn’t, she thinks back to Gemin, asking her not to remember him like that.  Not to see how he had been killed, but she knew, it was a tradition Parrish had informed her about.  How they clean skins, he didn’t know why she wanted to know, but he was unable to deny her anything. 

With everything that was happening, her parents decided to take her to meet with a therapist.  A neutral party that she is meant to speak with and confide in, he is highly recommended.  But looking at him she doubts it.  The walls of the room are not white, maybe a light grey with certificates and diplomas lining the walls, but the chairs are thankfully comfortable.  She stares at her nails, still perfectly pink and manicured.    

“I only have to be here.” She reminds him. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Dr. Gabriel Valack smiles, he is far to amused at her response and it irritates her.  There is something about him that makes her uncomfortable. “I don’t even think you’re qualified for this job.” She continues. She has every right to be irritated, with her parents divorcing, her dreams, and the constant reminder of a blood oath, her ancestors made, not her but she is supposed to abide by.

Dr. Gabriel Valack clicks his pen; he does this a couple times, rapid little clicks.  Lydia stares at the pen wanting to take it away from him.  He is still staring at her, with a smug smirk on his face.  He stops clicking his pen and finally speaks to her.

“Tell me Lydia, what carries more weight the secret or the price of telling it?” Dr. Gabriel Valack asks her.

Lydia glares at him, deciding that this is her chance to ignore him.  He is still staring at her with a smug little smirk; it makes her want to scream.  Her family serves the Hale family, and in return the Hales protect them.  She knows from what she has overheard what happens to those with gifts the hunters and covens deem usable.  She has to keep what she knows a secret, she knows what really happened to Paige, where Scott’s body is and who is now wearing Gemin’s skin. She knew them, continues to go to school where they did, and sees their missing person posters added to an already full wall.  The truth is a heavy burden, and it is cruel that they expect her to carry it. 

She wants to tell the truth, but she knows what will happen.  She has heard from her mother, grandmother and the Hale alpha what could happen if she did tell the truth.  She understands how cause and effect works.   Lydia had imagined telling Mrs. Matthews the truth about Paige, letting her know that Paige had been chosen by a hell hound as the skin for his mate.  But Paige had been refused, and sacrificed to an ancient tree that connects this realm to another.  She could tell the McCalls what happened to Scott, how a member of the Hale family broke his bones and fed him to ancient gods, there will never be a body to burry.  She wants to tell deputy Stilinski that Gemin was hallowed out and turned into a suit for a fox.

Gemin hadn’t wanted to be remembered like that. 

“Why would I know?” she asks irritated.

Dr. Valack stares at her, clicking his pen never losing his smug smile as he leans back in his chair, “One of my patients was a dreamer, not like you, he was only an observer, chosen to see all but unable to change anything.” Dr. Valack continues to click his pen, but he has a far off look in his eyes, “Have you been dreaming Lydia?”

Lydia knows what a dreamer is, unlike a banshee they are chosen ones, prophets.  Her dreams are warnings, right now she dreams of a shadow made of flies.  The shadow buzzes loudly as it roams the hallways, where ever it is to dark for her to identify.  The only light comes from a few small windows that are too high to really be of any use. She has been following it as it goes further down the hallways.  She knows that it is searching for something.  In some of the hallways there are other shadows, the silent ones that face the wall.  They are important to the shadow made of flies.      

She had told her grandmother about the dream.  “I don’t have dreams.” She tells Dr. Valack, she is done with this conversation; she looks away from Dr. Valack and goes back to looking at her nails.   She can hear the pen clicking, but she pays him no attention.  She just has to wait him out and her session will be over.

In the waiting room Parrish is well waiting, he has been allowed to borrow his father’s car, even given permission to pick up and take Lydia home.  He should feel delighted that he has been given this time to be alone with her, and with permission. His father has been busy at the station, leaving him with the Hales, thankfully, he spends most of his time with just Laura and Cora.  He has already placed his bet for what will happen when Void and Derek returns.  He already knows that Peter will barricade himself in his room and not leave till he recovers from having to deal with people.  He believes that Void and Derek will return as an adoring couple, then after the ceremony be right back to their uncomfortable to those around them, dramatic on and off again relationship.

He continues to flip through the magazine he has been trying to read.  He is trying not to pay attention to what is happening behind the closed door, but it’s difficult, he can hear her heartbeat, smell the chemical reactions her body is letting off.  She is uncomfortable; he closes the magazine and reaches for another.  There is a time magazine on the table; on the cover are two faces he has seen repeatedly.  He turns that magazine over and hides it at the bottom of the pile. 

He looks up when he hears the door open.  Lydia already looks annoyed; her feeling only amplifies when she notices him instead of her mother or grandmother.  He stands and smooths out his shirt, he gets enough crap from Laura about his need to impress a seven year old, who with one look can make him feel small and insignificant.  He wonders if maybe he needs to see Dr. Valack next. She walks past him and he hurries to catch up with her. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks her. 

Lydia ignores him, walking to the passenger door of the truck and waiting for him to open it and help her in.  Parrish does, opening the door and helping her in, to be safe he tells her to buckle herself in the backseat.  She does, giving him a look that speaks volumes toward her contempt at the situation.  He waits and makes sure she is buckled in and quickly makes his way to the driver’s side door.

“Don’t you have to be 18 to drive?” Lydia asks him once he’s buckled in.

“Special drivers permit.” Parrish informs her, he looks at her refection in the rear view mirror, she doesn’t look impressed. 

“I want to go home.” she orders him.

Parrish nods and does as she demands; unlike some he won’t risk driving his mate away.

…………….then…………….

Peter had been a surprise baby. 

No one, not even his mother knew she was pregnant.  Her scent never changed, she showed no symptoms and as she reminded everyone, she had still been quite regular.  It wasn’t until she went into labor during a pack run, that she or anyone else was given any warning or idea that he was on his way.  His parents had joked that Peter had always been a private person, even in the womb he didn’t want anyone to know what he had been doing.  While his birth was an interesting story, his relationship with his immediate family and pack were sometimes unclear and strange. 

There was too much of an age difference between him and Talia to have a normal sibling relationship.  His sister treated him as if he was one of her own children, his nephew and nieces acted more like younger siblings and his parents were either to indulgent or protective.  The rest of the pack treated him like they needed to make up for not knowing and in some way failing the alpha, or that he was some type of miracle. 

So to give himself some type of sanity, he kept quiet about his dreams not wanting to draw any attention to himself, well anymore than he was usually capable of doing.  So he believed that by hiding anything that he had written or drawn about those dreams and never mentioning them to his parents and anyone around him, he was quite safe in just having everyone believe that he was simply being him.

For a while everything seemed fine, the dreams only came once a month.

He could live with just dreaming once a month.  To going from deep sleep to wide awake, grabbing his notebook as he frantically wrote his dream and its newest parts down. Being sure to hide everything in the morning, and appear to be asleep as he always was when his mother or sister came to wake him. 

He had believed he had everything under control.  He apparently hadn’t, since once a month became twice a week, till it was every single night.  The same out of focus, jumbled confusing mess of images, voices and sounds, every night and still getting longer, and there was always something new each time.  He couldn’t ignore them or how he was left after.  He tried to stop falling asleep when the dreams became too much, but it seemed to make them worse when he finally gave in and slept.  On those nights, he would wake to himself in the cellar kneeling at the roots of the Nemeton, unknowingly writing or drawing what he been dreaming down on the dirt floor of the cellar with his claws. 

He had lost whatever control he had believed himself to have, the only thing that mattered was finding out what the dreams meant.  That became an obsession, soon nothing else mattered, he was oblivious to everything else, locking himself away in his room for months, sleeping for longer amounts of time and staying in unresponsive state, but he had to, he needed to, the more he dreamt, the clearer the meanings of the dreams became.

Soon the choice of not telling was taken away from him.  He doesn’t remember much of those three weeks he had gone without sleep, but he does remember what happened when he had woken up in the cellar, he remembers that very well.  After that he knew it was over, his parents had been waiting in his room, and everything he had written and drawn laid out for them.  He had known this day was coming, so Peter told his parents everything. 

……………………now………………

At their father’s request they left France to head to some abandoned ghost town outside of California, it’s been abandoned for so long, it was no longer on any map, and those that once did had been lost or destroyed a long time ago.  Something big had happened here, he knew that, he just didn’t know what.  Their father, Gerard, had been very insistent about them staying in this specific place. 

“What could you be thinking about to make that face?”

Kate’s amusement at him thinking brings him back to the present and out of his head.  He has never questioned his father, he always did as he was told, but now he had some questions.

“Nothing.” He tells her, already knowing she doesn’t believe them.  They spent too much time together, relied on each other to keep the other alive, to be ignorant of even the smallest emotion. Kate laughs at his response; she knows that he had sat through two lectures about going soft and the dangers of it.  One from his wife when he had returned from a hunt in Nepal, and the other from his father, not even twenty minutes after his plane had landed from the same hunt. 

“Do you think I’m going soft?” he asks her, trying to keep his tone neutral. 

From the side of his eye he can see her thinking, he knows that look.  She’s choosing her words carefully.

His sister, Kate, has two sides, the one who is his sister and the hunter, that side is the terrifying one.  Kate has always been quick on her feet, both mentally and physically, she is manipulative and charming.  He’s seen her work a room, but as a sister, she thinks about she needs to say, weighs the consequence of her words to his actions and needs. 

“No,” she answers raising one arm to brush her hair with her fingers, “You didn’t see him as a monster.  You saw a child.  A child like Alison, and you did what you would have wanted someone to do if it was Alison in that monsters place.” She pauses as he tenses.  “That’s not soft Chris, that’s just being human.”

He lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.  He tells himself that he doesn’t’ care if they think he is weak in his belief of the code set for the hunters and the philosophy that there is a difference between hunting and torturing for amusement, he is not a monster, he hunts them.   

He opens his bag and hands her one of the ration bars, their father didn’t want to risk them being spotted once they reached Oregon.  They had loaded up on supplies, enough to be off grid and comfortable.  Chris opens his own ration bar, he’s gotten used to the taste, knows which types seem like delicacies and others you give to the companion you like the least. 

“It has been years since any Argent stepped on Hale land.” Chris begins, starting up a conversation.

Beacon Hills is protected, organized, has territories with others in neighboring territories, if it weren’t for the warding on this place, the warding the coven had given them so they would be caught, an Argent or one of their allies caught within one of California’s bordering states would be “politely” asked by a Hale pack member to leave, and if they refused killed.

Kate lets out a laugh, “Don’t look so worried Chris, I have a way in.”

He knows they do have a way in, a very small window that they can use before it closes. Beacon Hills had been considered cursed, the unexplained suicides, animal attacks and all the missing people.  It had attracted the curious, the conspiracy buffs and weekend crime solvers, but never the national media.  Now because of who the parents of the currently missing children worked for, the world had cast its eyes on Beacon Hills.  The media and FBI had settled in, meaning a very warded hunter could get in, observe and infiltrate while everyone was focused on staying hidden, keeping their secrets. 

“The Hales will be on lock down.” he states feeling like the only one with common sense in the room.

“I am a big girl now Chris, I sometimes even go on my own hunts.” She reminds him.

“That’s not what I meant.” He defends.   

“It’s just a simple reconnaissance mission,” Kate informs him, sounding patronizing even to him.  He doesn’t like this, “They won’t even know that I’m there, and by the time they do, I’ll be gone.”   

Chris frowns and nods, it is supposed to be a reconnaissance mission, she goes in and he’s there to pull her out if anything takes a turn for the worse.  His gut tells him that there is something else going on, something big, he could make his case with the wendigos, they grab food and store it, 5 at most 10 people go missing and then nothing for months even years.  But this time, it was in the high twenties, almost thirties, one hunter who had given them their supplies had joked the wendigos were stalking up for the end of days, that second war was coming and to the bigger baddies, wendigos were on the menu. 

“Stop over thinking, tomorrow is the big day.” Kate reminds him.

Tomorrow Kate goes into Beacon Hills.  She was given the full works for her cover, new social security number, background, name, credit history.  While his sister goes undercover, Chris will stay here and wait, they will keep in contact on prepaid phones on set times and dates, code words have been memorized and they have gone over each part of the plan till they knew it forwards, backwards and all the added on changes for any problem they might encounter. 

“I’ll be fine.” She reminds him. 

Chris sighs and nods. 

………………………..Then…………….

 Peter was sent to therapy first, his first stop being Deaton.

His sister knew Deaton from whatever conferences that she attended for work.  He had met him maybe twice, but he remembered the man. The man had an unnatural ability to make Peter want to punch him in the throat, with his claws out. 

Peter sits on the little to hard chair; it’s too big and uncomfortable.  He shifts in the chair, trying to find a spot that doesn’t make him feel like his tail bone is going to be bruised.  Deaton, doesn’t even give him time to get comfortable before he begins their session. 

“Your sister tells me you are having trouble sleeping.” Is how Deaton starts their first conversation as patient and doctor, telling Peter what he already knows, because he had been in the room when his sister had told Deaton that, “Your mother tells me, that it’s due to dreams.” Deaton opens a folder with Peter’s name on it.  “What do you think is happening to you, Peter?”

Peter stares at Deaton for a moment; he should probably mention he’s having a little trouble with time and reality.  For a few seconds he sees a padded room, with crude drawings of symbols and crosses.  He can see the doctor on the floor; a giant hound has one paw on Deaton’s chest, pressing down while its jaws and teeth work on tearing Deaton’ throat out.  Peter closes his eyes and counts to ten before opening them again.  He’s back in Deaton’s office, and the not quite white walls and uncomfortable chairs.

“I think you should never get a dog, or be in a padded room.”  Peter answers Deaton.  He needs to ask his sister if it’s necessary for anyone to buy chairs this uncomfortable. 

“Why do you say that?” Deaton asks, looking so politely interested it makes Peter want to throw the chair at him, but he refrains from such behavior because it is not the chairs fault. 

“No reason, just dogs the size of an irritated small horse are dangerous to your not crushed in chest and torn out throat.” Peter tells him, before standing and just staring at the chair. “But I am sure it’s just bad horror movies and nightmares.” 

Peter doesn’t feel too bad when Deaton refers him to another doctor.  His sister glares at him, and tells their mother that Deaton believes that Peter might have an over active imagination.  

Three days later Peter finds himself in a new office.  Light grey colored walls with diplomas and certificates on the wall, Peter sits on a now too soft couch, hating the feeling of sinking if he so much as moves. The doctor seems too young for his job, but he’s highly recommended, or so his sister assures him as she drives him to his appointment. Deaton assured Talia and his mother personally, that all Peter suffers from is an over active imagination and he just needs something to focus on, and to not be allowed certain, genres. 

Dr. Gabriel Valack smiles, it seems pleasant and comforting but it’s his eyes that make Peter want to grab his things and leave, maybe hide behind his mother and sick his sister on Valack.  But he just smiles back and tries not to move.

“What do you dream about Peter?” Dr. Valack asks.

Peter smiles politely at him, “An empty theater.” Peter begins, “Well, empty except for me, I sit in the front row staring at the screen, waiting for the movie to start.” he places his hands on his stomach and crosses his legs at the ankles, “but there is always something wrong, either there is no video or no sound. I figure that must be why the theater is empty.”

Doctor Valack stares at him, looks at something in his notes and clicks his pen, a nervous habit.  Peter watches, it has been almost a year since these dream started, he thought he understood them, or was seeing the pattern but maybe there is no pattern, no reason at all but his mind being creative.

“You keep going back to that theater.” Dr. Valack tells him as he clicks the pen again a few times then looks at something else in his notes, it makes Peter curious, and curious is much better than scared to go to sleep. “Why do you think you keep on going back to that theater?”

Peter smiles at the doctor, “Waiting for progress.” At his answer Doctor Valack clicks his pen again, and again but slower each time. 

“Was Deaton being eaten by a giant dog the size of a horse one of the things you saw on that screen?” Dr. Valack inquires, as he continues to click the pen and look at something that Peter cannot see but has Valack interested.

“A small irritated horse.” Peter corrects.

Dr. Gabriel Valack stares at him, and Peter stares back. 

“Are there ever any reoccurrences in your dreams, people and places?”

“You mean aside from the theater?” Peter clarifies.

“You keep very detailed notes and have such talent, especially for one your age.” Dr. Valack tells him as he unfolds something from the folder.  “Do you believe that your dreams have meanings?”

“Anything can have meaning.” Peter answers. 

“Allow me to rephrase the question.” Valack continues, “You are the dreamer Peter, what meaning do they have to you.” Valack hands him the paper he was staring at. Its two papers kept together by a stable, both are copies of his work.  

Peter looks at the image, it the same boy, his son, older and covered in red, eyes wide and screaming, at his feet are bodies upon bodies. Seeing the image he can hear it, the overwhelming sound, and the scream torn out of him, so loud, so very loud. He can read his own hand writing, see the frantic tone in the smudges and rushed writing. 

  _“You let them do this to me, you promised that you wouldn’t let them, you promised!” his son screams, stained with blood red hands clench into fists, “You’re my father, you were supposed to protect me, but you didn’t because you wanted this.”, there is more that his son wants to say but the sound stops as the image blurs. The dreamer can feel when his son shoves him, can hear the sound of hurried feet as his son runs away.  The dreamer reaches out trying to grasp on to anything but his son is gone.  The dreamer can do nothing as everything fades away, it’s the curse of the dreamer to know all but never be able to stop it. The dreamer listens as the sound of his sisters voice brings him into another moment. This moment leaves him standing in a familiar kitchen, his hands are over the sink, his sister is washing the blood off his hands, his hands are shaking to violently to do it himself.  He doesn’t understand how he is even able to stand under the weight of knowing that his son is gone, somewhere that he does not know, where he cannot yet follow but he will.  The dreamer must find his son, the world has changed and his child no matter how strong, will not be safe alone. His sister can see the pain and panic in his face, she tries to comfort him with words. “Everything we ever do is to provide them a better life, a better world, a safer world.”_

“I have a passion for writing.” Peter answers as he stares at the picture.

Dr. Valack smiles wider, “Let us focus on that.”

.....end chapter 1


	2. Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is always a moment of activity before the quiet that occurs before the storm. It's not a warning, its the stacking of events.

“The soul is a terrible reality. It can be bought and sold and bartered away.”   
― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray  
…….  
Chapter 2: Emotions

……………3 days ago……

Peter remembered the Inn fondly. 

His family maintained a permanent reservation with the Inn. They had stayed here for reunions, turned the suites designated for them into a vacation home, and like now a place of refuge. This place holds memories, Peter likes it here. He sits on one of the stone benches that run along the property, waiting and watching. 

His mind wanders to Stiles, he misses the days when all Stiles was capable of was walking for shot burst of time before he was reaching out towards Peter and demanding to be carried. Now Stiles can run, climb, open things on his own and get into all the trouble his heart desires. Stiles has made friends in the shadows that care for and guard the Inn and its guests. 

Peter had been quick to set ground rules when he realized how indulgent they are towards Stiles. They are simple enough rules, all curtains are to be drawn and the blinds closed in any room Stiles enters or wants to enter. Stiles, is never to exit the Inn without Peter or Derek. When Stiles is wandering the grounds or the Inn, no one but Peter or Derek is allowed near him. Any visitors are to be escorted in and out of the Inn and its grounds only after Peter has given permission to enter and leave. 

Peter doesn’t need to turn around to know who is walking with an escort of shadows towards him. He had wanted a meeting with her, and he knew she wanted to meet with him. Until he had sent one of the shadows to deliver Peters personal invitation and to escort her onto the property and the place Peter had designated, she was unable to enter the property. He turns and looks at her, she looks older than he remembered, the last time he had seen her was when Void was a month old. 

“Hello, Peter Hale.” She speaks sounding to calm for his liking. If she noticed his irritation and paranoia she made no show of it. “I was hoping to see my grandson.” Despite her seemingly kind words, he could hear the demand in them, the unvoiced threat in them. 

Peter stares at her, looking partly amused and insulted at the same time. “Your grandson?” Peter repeats, “I believe there has been some type of miscommunication.” He starts to explain. 

“I have seen him Peter Hale, I know my son and that is not my son.” She interrupts sounding insulted that he would try to deny what she knew. 

“Why?” Peter asks feeling uneasy at the way the conversation is going. Peter has the urge to grab his son and run. 

She tilts her head as she studies him. He holds her gaze, feeling a bead of sweat slowly trail down his spine before she nods, looking as if she had come to a realization. 

“I will not harm my grandson, I wish to know him, spend time with him.” she continues to hold his gaze. “He will need all the allies and protection he can get Peter Hale, you and I will not be the only ones to realize what he is.” Despite her calm and patient tone he knows she is not docile. 

“What do you have in mind?” Peter asked. 

Peter knew what she was saying was true, if others realized that Stiles was more than Void in Gemin’s skin, a ceremony gone wrong, there would be a reckoning. Reckonings lead to war. 

“Let me see my grandson.” 

They both stare at each other before Peter nods; he looks at the shadow standing quietly watching and waiting. 

“In an hour, escort her to the gazebo, Stiles and I will be having lunch with our guest there.” the shadow nods, Peter looks back at her, Voids mother and wishes he had learned her name. 

“I will see you then Peter Hale.” with her words Peter feels that he is being dismissed. 

……………..now…………….

John Stilinski is taking a leave of absence. 

Any investigation into his sons’ case is lost in the trial of public opinion against Rafael McCall. He might have pitied Rafael if he had never met him. He does pity Melissa and Martha they didn’t deserve what was happening to them, what was being said about them. To the people that didn’t know them, it was all being believed. 

The media, rumors and theories made it difficult for all of them. 

His leave from the Sheriff’s department gives him time to focus on the cases and what he does know. 

He agrees with Martha that the Hale siblings were involved in Paige’s disappearance and supposed suicide. He needs a way to prove it, he had interviewed the siblings. He remembers them both, Derek had been silent, giving only single word responses, Laura had taken to answering for both of them. When he had tried to separate them Sheriff Haigh had taken over. Donati had tried to play it off as the Sheriff trying to keep Talia or god forbid her mother Katherine from coming down on them. 

He pins the school picture of Derek and Laura Hale on the board right next to Paige’s. 

From what he’s learned from his access to the library archives the Hales have always been here, long before Beacon Hills. He has an appointment with an historian tomorrow, John may have found records of disappearances and sightings of large dog like creatures that date back to before the town became Beacon Hills but he needs more than what he can find. 

Those sightings bring him back to the book Paige had hidden. John had read it several times, tried matching passages to anything similar on the internet. He had one hit, to a website dedicated to William Barrow and the truth of the supernatural. Nothing that sounds sane, but it does mention how Hell Hounds are more than just giant shadow like dogs with red eyes; they can take on human form. 

That fact is enough to have him writing with a question mark on the end the word Hell Hounds on sticky note and pressing it on the board. 

He may sound insane but he remembers the howling in the preserve, the same day Paige had been in the preserve with the Hale siblings. The same day Gemin had come running out of it with Scott both terrified and whispering about their friend still in the preserve. 

If there was someone else with Gemin and Scott in the preserve, he could have been the one to lead them away from the house, or was the reason someone else had gotten them to leave the house. 

John stares at his unfinished board, he has holes to fill but he is a firm believer that when the same something happens several times over it is not a coincidence it’s a pattern. Pattern means it is a behavior, and behavior can be tracked. 

…………..

Peter sighs, a habit he has found himself picking up in the one week they have been here. It feels longer with how exhausted he feels and it’s not even noon yet and all Peter wants to do is sleep. Only that is far from what is actually in the plans. In two hours Stiles will be meeting with his grandmother for their daily lunch date. Peter knows that Stiles looks forward to those meetings. She visits him every day at the same time; Stiles will climb onto one of the window seats and wait for her ten minutes before the scheduled time. When he sees her, all Stiles can do is scramble to get to her as fast as he can. 

He looks at the journal in his hand, he finally has some time to write, but he hasn’t had a dream since Stiles woke. The only thing waking him up at night is Stiles. Once he might have been overjoyed that this was happening, but now, he has Stiles to care for, Voids family stalking the property line, Voids mother and her daily visits and his nephew Derek is still an emotional mess and hormonal teenager. 

Peter lets out another sigh as he continued to proof read, adding notes to the margin when he has an idea. 

“Give it back!” 

Peter looks up from his journal at Stiles shout. Derek has taken the book Stiles had been reading quietly and is holding it high above his head. Stiles stands on his tippy toes, one hand clutching Derek’s shirt for balance while the other is stretched as high as it can go. 

“Go on take it.” Derek taunts, “Try and take it from me.” 

“Give it back!” Stiles shouts at Derek as he continues to reach for his book. 

Derek is enjoying this game; he had become annoyed at being ignored for a book. Now that he has the book, Stiles attention is back where it should be. “Go on take it.” Derek taunts as he easily tosses the book to his other hand. His smile is the picture of pure smug satisfaction when Stiles starts jumping to reach the book, making him cling a little tighter to Derek. “Touch it and I’ll give it back.” Derek offers, as he tosses the book from hand to hand. 

Stiles response is a snarl. “Give it back!” Stiles yells out again irritated at the game Derek wants to play and his father’s new –let them solve it on their own-approach to Derek’s antics towards him. Derek won’t do as Stiles demands, leaving him to resolve this on his own. Stiles clutches Derek’s shirt tighter in his hand, before going for what he knows works. Quickly he bites down on Derek’s now exposed side, sinking his nails into Derek’s waist and shakes his head as he latches on. 

Derek doesn’t make a sound, but he does let go of the book. Stiles can hear it dropping on the floor; he releases Derek and makes a lunge for the book. Derek grabs at him, for almost a minute they grabble against each other before Derek has Stiles pinned to the floor. 

Peter puts down his journal and sighs. He refuses to get involved unless it is absolutely necessary. The last time he had gotten involved and separated the two of them after one of Derek’s attention seeking tantrums. Peter learned to never turn his back on Derek, it didn’t matter that Stiles was still in the same room and standing only a few feet away, because Derek had no problem throwing his uncle into and thru walls. 

“Stiles what did I tell you about biting?” Peter reminds. His tone doesn’t hide the annoyance he is feeling. He will admit he is a little concerned at how used to being bitten and clawed at his nephew has become that he doesn’t even flinch. Derek looks up and Stiles lets out a muffled response that Peter figures is the very words that Peter tells Stiles every time he starts biting Derek. “Let Derek go.” Stiles does his expression a cross between a pout and glare. Peter sighs, then addresses his nephew, “Derek, shouldn’t you go back to Beacon hills, catch up on homework or visit your mother?” Peter can see from the look in his nephew’s eyes that his suggestion does not sit well with Derek. 

Peter sighs again. 

…………………………….

Presently the popular opinion is that Rafael McCall killed both Scott McCall and Gemin Stilinski. It’s the theory being run in every newspaper and repeated on the television and over radio stations. There are different theories on how he did it, but the reason remains the same. He was angry at his ex-wife and didn’t want to pay child support. 

Natalie Martin, a new divorcee and a human member of the extended Hale pack and well aware of at least a variation of the truth was sitting on a new couch in her mother’s living room watching the news, not the actual news but a crime talk show that was talking about Rafael McCall. While Natalie didn’t care for the over made up abrasive personality that hosted the show, she would enjoy watching this segment. 

Marian Lace was staring at the camera, looking justified in her anger and unproven theory of what happened to those missing boys. 

“I can’t believe he has not been officially labeled a suspect in this case.” Marian with her scandalized tone demanded the unofficial liaison for the sheriff’s department. “He has the motive, time and knows how to make those two boys disappear. One was even his son!” 

The unofficial liaison was a heavy man, graying hair and a face that spoke more about the reasons he quit being unspeakable nightmares than the chance at an early retirement. 

“The Sheriff’s department needs evidence Marian. Yes, he has motive as an estranged spouse he didn’t pay child support, but with the divorce he would. She would be filing for sole custody, supervised visitations and along with her testimony any evidence she provided would be on record.” He answered in his monotone voice. 

Marian frowned at him, “Everyone knows what he did, he murdered his son so he wouldn’t have to pay child support. He even murdered that brave boy who was trying to save his friend, can you imagine that horror. Knowing your father, someone who is supposed to protect and love you is going to kill you, imagine the fear Scott must have felt, the terror Gemin must have felt as he tried to save his friend.” 

Marian frowned, her eyes glittering with tears. Next to her face pictures of Scott and Gemin smiling and together are being shown. 

Natalie watches the televisions shaking her head at the outrageous claims. 

The door slammed opened and Natalie knew who it was. 

“How was your session with Dr. Valack?” Natalie asks. 

She’s ignored by her daughter but Parrish who is following behind Lydia and looks at her. 

“Hello Mrs. Martin.” He greets, if it weren’t for knowing what he was she could imagine that he was an old fashioned all American boy. 

“How was her session with Dr. Valack?” Natalie asks, he looks at her then in the direction that Lydia had stormed off in. 

“I think it went well.” Parrish tells her looking awkward as he stands there. 

“How well?”Natalie asks. 

Parrish looks at her, “I’ll be taking her back after school again next week?”he answers looking unsure. 

“Good.” Natalie tells him while watching as a clip of Rafael screaming at some reporter is replayed with Marian going on about Rafael’s anger problems and how he had never actually been charged with child abuse after punching his own son down the stairs. 

“Um, I need to go home ma’am the alpha set a curfew for us.” Parrish tells her, looking skittish as he speaks. 

Natalie stares at him, “Tell Alpha Hale I send her warm regards.” 

Parrish nods at her and leaves as quickly as he politely is able to. Natalie smiles to herself; this new generation is going to have a hard time surviving in Beacon Hills. 

……..then……

For five years Peter had been receiving treatment from Dr. Valack. 

Dr. Valack had recommended Peter continue writing and drawing his dreams, to share them with his mother and of course Dr. Valack. Peter believed, really believed that he was writing a series of stories, his mind had come up with an idea and he needed to put it down. He just had an over active imagination and talent. It made him feel safer. To have confirmation that he wasn’t going insane, the loss of time and reality was a side effect of living in his head. He went back to having a life, even if it was mostly school and basketball practice.

That all changed on a Thursday when Alana happened. He had been waiting for his sister to pick him up outside the school gym after practice. He had been reading over his notes on his latest dream when he felt this need to look up, when he did he saw her across the street. 

Seeing Alana, knowing that she is real, standing in the very same place and doing the same thing that he had dreamt her doing. He had felt some very strong emotions, anger at being lied to by his parents and Dr. Valack. Those emotions ranged from betrayal because he trusted and confided in them, and suspicion on what they were using the information in his dreams for. Finally there was pleased, if Alana was real than so was everything else he had been dreaming. 

Alana was older than him, she was dangerous, beautiful, charismatic and cunning. She went where she wanted, when she wanted and answered to no one. To him, she was the physical embodiment of everything he wanted, she was proof that he wasn’t defective in some way and his packs hatred of her made her even more desirable. 

Peter used his knowledge and pursued her. 

She had been amused at first. To Alana, Peter was a love struck boy who adored the ground she walked and would take even the smallest scrap of affection from her gratefully. She didn’t know that Peter was smarter than what she gave him credit for. Peter knew she was trying to use him. He allowed her to have her delusion of control, she might not be his mate but in his dreams, she was the mother of his children.

Peter had drawn his daughter as a stumbling toddler making her way to his mother. 

Peter had written his son as a teenager screaming at the unfairness of expectations placed on him at dinner. 

She allowed him to catch her, she knew his pack was strong, and she excelled in making enemies. 

………………………….now…………..

Stiles loves the Inn. 

He loves the views from the windows. He loves the garden and the maze, especially the gazebo where he and grandmother meet. He loves talking to her, she different than his father or Derek. She just listens to him, doesn’t try to reason with him or demand that he do as he is told. Plus she’s soft like the blankets one of the shadows had brought him and he had begged his father to let him keep. She doesn’t’ mind when all he wants to do is cuddle against her and braid flowers into her tail. Father gets annoyed after awhile, and Derek just tries to sit on him. He doesn’t understand why she wants him to call her grandmother. He wants to ask his father but once Stiles had mentioned how much he loved grandmother, and its knowing how sad it made Father that he never asks or mentions what he and grandmother speak about until his father brings it up.

He has a feeling that he might not want to talk about this conversation; his grandmother is sharing some meat balls with him. It tastes good. She smiles as he eats, watching as he rolls them around the plate, his father would lecture him on manners and Derek would try to force feed him. He smiles back holding one out for her, she takes it from his fingers and gives him a lick. 

When the meal is done and the shadows are bringing in some type of dessert, his grandmother asks him a question. 

“Has Derek done anything that made you uncomfortable?” she asks him, when he stares at her confused she clarifies a little more. “Has Derek ever hurt you or made you do things that you don’t want to do?” 

His grandmother hates Derek. She doesn’t keep it a secret either, but he figures that is fair since Derek hates grandmother. Father is the only one who seems fine with either of them, always telling Stiles that you can’t expect everyone to get along. But Stiles thinks there is something more. There seems to be a bigger picture and he is just not seeing yet, but he will, he knows that sooner or later all the little pieces will fit together. 

“He always does, Dad says that’s just his personality.” Stiles answers, as he grabs at some of the flowers and starts slowly weaving them together, trying to make a flower crown for grandmother. His father had shown him how, telling him that he learned because of Stiles sisters. He doesn’t know his sister, she’s dead, but he thinks he would have liked her. “He’s okay, just scary sometimes.” He adds in defense of Derek. 

“He scares you.” Grandmother says, before she nudges his fingers helping him the best she can in completing the crown. He shrugs in responses focusing on weaving the stems together, “Peter protects you doesn’t he?” she continues. 

“Dad promised to protect me, always.” He tells her. 

“Stiles, you are always welcome to stay with me. I will protect you.” She promises, he leans into her as he continues weaving the flower crown. 

The shadow fills their drinks and places down a large plate of cake, Stiles smiles pleasantly in response. 

He loves the cake especially the red filling, it reminds him of pennies. 

“Eat as much as you want.” His grandmother tells him.   
…………………………..

With Stiles spending time with his grandmother and Derek lurking in some dark corner of a window so he can watch Stiles, Peter has some time alone. Peter has found out since now he does have time alone, he has no idea what to really do but slouch in a seat somewhere and think. 

Since they have been here in Oak Creek, his dreams aren’t what wake him to the same yellow wall paper he had seen before falling asleep. He wakes now to a child trying unsuccessful to sneak in some cuddles. More than once Peter has woken up to a foot in the face or a pillow to his chin as Stiles tries to find a comfortable spot while he cuddles with his father. 

Peter had been a father once. 

He had always known that he would be, but after what had happened with Malia and Alana, he believed that experience would never happen again. Originally he had been confused when he recognized Gemin but had no feelings for the boy. That promptly changed when Stiles had opened his eyes the second time, reaching out for him, looking more like a horrific mess than a child needing affection but Peter couldn’t help himself. He had taken the boy in his arms, and swore that his son would never suffer the same fate Malia had. 

He thinks of Stiles curled against his side on one of the sofas in the sitting room, all smiles, trust and affection as he flips through the pages of the storybook his father had given him. Peter had smiled, using his thumb to massage the side of Stiles face that was still just a little slower to respond. Peter was proud with how far Stiles had come. Stiles has more control of his new body, the skin no longer hangs and drips off of him. He resembles physically a 10 year old boy but his motor skills are those of a toddler. Even with all the progress Peter worries, he has every reason to. 

His mother had already sent word that she is expecting them back soon, no later than the end of next week. His sister made it clear that when they returned she wanted proof that her son was not going to be denied what was his. When they returned the preparation for the mating ceremony would begin. It wouldn’t matter that Stiles is basically a child wearing the skin of an adolescent, he was going to be expected to be prepared for and be accepting of his role. Stiles wouldn’t refuse-not now- he adored Derek. 

There was more about their return that worried him than just his mother and sister. 

They would be returning to Beacon Hills were Gemin’s father and mother lived, who might recognize the skin Stiles wore. If they did, they wouldn’t hesitate to bring down the full power of a coven on the Hale pack. If the coven succeeded they would take Stiles from him and do god knows what with him. 

Peter wanted nothing more than grab his son and run, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. He needed the pack, a pack meant safety, and he knew what happened when one didn’t have the safety and protection of pack. 

Peter would never make that mistake again. 

……………………….then……………

The problem was his pack and everyone in the Hale territory from extended pack, humans and the neutrals that lived in Beacon Hills was watching Alana. That made him sneaking out of the house and finding places to meet her so they could be alone, difficult, but not impossible. Peter was well behaved and aside from school and basketball he was a hermit. Who resided in a home that was expecting a new baby, who was going to have a bratty ten year old and dramatic twelve year old for siblings. Derek and Laura weren’t ready to share their mother and everyone else with the new baby. All he had to do was wait for the tantrums and leave grumbling to his room about not wanting to ever experience this again, ever. 

He meant it too but he highly doubted there was anyone who could even compare to the brats his niece and nephew was capable of being. 

Four months later Alana was pregnant. He had seen his parents angry before, even seen them murderous and watched them tear into threats with a precision and cruelty that had him fearing his parents. He had believed himself prepared for their response when he announced his upcoming child with Alana, he had been wrong. 

Months after Cora was born, Malia arrived all energy and stubbornness. She looked more like him than her mother. Which his pack-mother and sister-continually were thankful for. Once Malia was born, whatever had kept his sister and mother from tearing into Alana was long gone. Not even three days after Malia was born, Alana had been driven off pack territory and then across and out of three other states. When he had gone to speak out against their actions, James-his brother in law- who he only ever known to be kind, patient and every good quality his sister lacked, had privately told him not to. 

So he didn’t, or maybe he had just forgotten when the reality of having a newborn had settled in.

……………..now………

Derek hates it here. 

He hates the Inn. 

He hates Oak Creek. 

He hates waiting and he hates the skin his mate wears. He hates being told that he needs to accept any of this, because guess what, he won’t, ever. His mate has no memory of him, doesn’t remember Gemin, and doesn’t even remember being Void. But that doesn’t matter to Derek, not as much as it should, because Derek remembers. 

Derek remembers his mate’s betrayal very well. 

He remembers Void choosing Gemin, protecting the witch, and now his mate is wearing the witch. 

He gets to see his mate in that witches skin, Derek feels very justified in his anger, and in his want for some type of satisfaction. He’d settle for being able to rip Void out of the witch’s skin, shred it then burn it till there wasn’t even ashes left for Void to mourn over. 

He especially hates how he feels, how sick, angry and wronged he feels. 

He shouldn’t want his mate while his mate wears that skin, but he does. He thinks it might be because of the bond, it’s not complete yet and they had been through so much. It makes the need to complete it worse, like an itch that he can never reach. Right now it feels like a noose around his neck that tightens every time he can’t see, touch, hear, or do the things that he wants to do to his mate. 

That noose around his neck it feels like a leash with just enough give to keep him from hanging himself, when he is looking, touching and doing just a little of what he wants to do to his mate. He wants to do so much to him but he can’t, not now, not yet. 

He knows his mate can feel it, sometimes, only when it feels like Derek is just hanging on by the smallest of threads, his mate will wrap his arms around Derek’s neck and let him take what he needs. In those moments his mate is docile, so sweet, and perfect. But those moments are few. 

The rest of the time, his mate clings to Peter. Peter rarely leaves them alone, and when Peter does, his mate tries to keep some distance between them. Unless Derek has something that Stiles wants, and he is petty enough to take things from Stiles to get what he wants. He has taken books, toys, anything that holds his mates interest. At times he wonders if there is something wrong with him. The dark part of him agrees, and as usual is always eager to remind, that Peter has always had a bad habit of wanting what Derek wants, and even worse habit of taking it. 

Derek already watched someone else steal his mate from him; he won’t let it happen again. 

He doesn’t care if Peter is family, he’ll tear his uncles throat out. 

Derek is distracted from his thoughts as he focuses in on the shadow as it takes a flower from one of the vases and gives it Stiles. He would feel threatened but his mate smiles happily and waves it around in his hand. That action makes Derek a little happy, regardless of what he feels about that skin, it’s staying where it’s supposed to, and the body moving as it is supposed to. Stiles has continued to age, no longer seven, maybe ten, soon they will leave, and go back to Beacon Hills. Derek still has time to find a new skin, someone different, someone he will choose for his mate, before the ceremony. 

But that opens up his thinking to another one of his problems, his mate is different. 

Void had been a spoiled brat, even back when he was as a pup, barely able to walk, see or talk, Void would whine and hiss until Derek paid attention to him and only him. Void had loved being carried, coddled and pampered. 

Stiles isn’t, he’s too independent, always wants to do anything and everything on his own. If no one is paying attention, Stiles sees it as an opportunity to take off on his own, leaving Derek paranoid at what Stiles had gotten himself into. Stiles is affectionate, on his own terms, he will allow himself to be carried, coddled, or pampered but only when he wants it. All other times, he is a wiggling fanged and clawed terror. Derek still has the bite mark on his arm from earlier. Stiles had gotten irritated and wanted down, Derek hadn’t put him down even after the biting and clawing started. 

Derek watches as the shadow leaves, it must have realized that it had to return to work. The Inn doesn’t clean itself after all. Derek tries not to look smug when the shadow leaves, he doesn’t bother to hide his smugness when Stiles realizes that Peter isn’t in the room, and they are alone. 

“Where’s Dad?” Stiles asks while playing with the flower. 

Stiles has taken to calling Peter that, and Peter hasn’t corrected him so Derek has encourages it. if Stiles thinks Peter is his father, then the only relationship between Peter and Stiles will be the one of father and son. 

Derek shrugs in response, he doesn’t know so he can’t answer that question. 

Stiles stares at him waiting to see if there is more to his response. When he realizes that there isn’t he sighs and goes back to looking at the flower. Derek can hear the gears in Stiles’ mind moving, and it has him on edge. Stiles is a genius when it come to causing trouble. Derek swears each time Stiles gets into some type of mischief, it takes years off of Derek’s life. 

Stiles smiles, “Here, it’s pretty.” he holds out the flower for Derek to take. 

Derek stares at the flower and then at Stiles. When Derek does nothing, Stiles raises the flower a little higher waving it a little as he moves closer looking irritated that Derek isn’t cooperating. Carefully, after Stiles begins to frown, Derek takes the flower. Stiles smiles at him before wandering back towards the vase of flowers that is now on a tall dresser and far out of Stiles reach. 

Derek looks at the flower, it’s broken, mishandled and some of its petals are missing, but it’s the prettiest flower Derek has ever seen. He smiles and looks up to where Stiles was and felt about 10 years being removed from his life. Stiles had opened the bottom two rows of drawers of the large dresser and is using them to help him climb towards the flowers. 

Derek with the flower still in hand races towards Stiles

…………..

Parrish misses his home. 

His dad already explained to him, repeatedly why he has to stay with the Hales. 

He understands the danger; he heard all the stories about hunters, covens and rouges. He knows that but he still misses home. While the guest room is amazing much nicer than his room, it’s not his room. His father is working longer hours, and another shift with Stilinski on forced leave. Parrish had met Stilinski before, the man was nice. 

Frowning at the same page in his science text book he started on some time ago, Parrish finally gives in and admits he is too distracted to concentrate. Doing, well trying to do his homework on the bed was a bad idea. He has been spending more time with Lydia, even if she blames him for what is happening to her. 

He isn’t to blame though. He knows who is, and where that person is. 

Parrish frowns wondering again if it is possible bury Derek in some vault and just leave him there. He’d be nice and leave him some rations and water, bring more supplies every other week. For as long as he can remember he has always had to deal with the consequences of Derek’s actions. 

Derek throws a rock at a tree and hits a beehive, Parrish is the one stung. 

Derek gets into a fight with a fucking troll, and Parrish has the collapsed lungs and twenty minutes of waiting for his spine to heal. 

Derek upsets some lone witch and Parrish is running from zombies because that witch was a walking dead fan. 

Derek annoys Void, Parrish who just walked by suddenly had a fox brushing up against him and telling Parrish how nice he smells, Parrish gets a claw to the face.

He seriously hates Derek Hale. 

“How is this my life?” he whispers to himself.

“I can hear you having one of your freak out moments from my room.” Laura tells him looking irritated even though she barged into his assigned room without knocking. He stares at her looking scandalized, and she just rolls her eyes at him. “You are such a prude.” Laura glares when Parrish looks at her amazed, “I am an educated individual Parrish.” 

“I was not implying that you are not one.” he tells her. 

Laura glares at him some more, Parrish doesn’t have a sibling he is thankfully an only child, because when the Hale siblings are apart they seem angrier. He hears something dragging on the floor and looks as Cora drags a bag behind her. Both him and Laura look, Cora looks at them and smiles. 

“I’m going to make a nest for Void.” She tells them as she walks past them towards Derek’s room. 

Laura raises her eyebrows while Parrish mouths the word nest and wonders if maybe he should read up on foxes because why would Void need a nest. 

“Cora.” Laura calls out before following her younger sibling, “why are you building a nest?” 

“For the eggs he’ll have after he marries Derek.” Cora calls back. 

“Eggs?” Laura questions. 

Parrish sits there and wonders again how this became his life. 

………………….

After Derek freaked out over Stiles attempt to get more flowers, Stiles had decided maybe practicing his drawing skills would be more relaxing. He had tried sneaking off to where his father was but that hadn’t worked out as planned. Stiles tried telling him he could help or sit quietly on the floor with his own sketch book and set of pencils. 

“I have something I need to finish, but I am sure Derek will be more than happy to watch over you.” 

With that being said Stiles had watched as his father left alone with Derek, not even turning around to look at him while Derek had closed in on him. Stiles longed for the days when his father had been too worried to leave him alone. All Stiles had to do when he was smaller was just burst out into tears and be carried away in his father’s arm. 

Stiles continues chewing on the pencil in his mouth. 

He didn’t dislike Derek. 

He had actually become quite comfortable with Derek, a little too comfortable for his father, as that talk about hypothetical birds and bees had proven. Derek was still scary, intimidating and was prone to thinking violence was the first and only correct response to anything and everything. Stiles would still prefer someone that he could talk to and would actually talk back. 

Stiles sighed his drawing didn’t look like the cup he was trying to draw. He put the chewed on pencil down and pouted, his father made it look easy. 

He looked at Derek still where he had last seen him and doing the same thing. It was creepy, but it was still better than when Derek followed behind him like a shadow, or tried to keep him in corners that he couldn’t move away from or he’d be pinned there. Stiles winced it didn’t matter that he was bigger now; Derek was huge and in his dog form heavy. He refused to be sat on again

“Does it look like a cup?” he asked. 

Derek was still sitting next to him staring at him then at the drawing, nodding slowly. 

“Are you lying to me?” Stiles demanded. 

Derek stared at him, “No.” he answered and continued on with his staring. 

Stiles narrowed his eyes sensing the lie but choose to ignore it for now. Derek stared at him with wide eyes knowing he was caught but refusing to admit it. 

………………………………………..then……

It wasn’t easy being a single father determined to do it all, there were times-when he had finally allowed himself to acknowledge that he was at a loss- he had run to his mother and sister, screeching infant clutched against his chest, but he never had to beg for help. They knew from the look in his eyes both helping him become the father he needed to be. For those few years he had never been happier, and then the mother-Alana- came back into the picture. She had contacted him in secrecy, expressed remorse for her behavior and a desire to know her daughter. To prove to him, his sister and mother that she was ready to accept responsibility and be the mother Malia deserved. 

He had believed her. He had dreamt of his family, his daughter and son. Seen Alana and Malia walking along side him in the preserve, the picture of a happy family. He agreed to meet her with Malia, alone at the edge of his packs territory. He imagined this was where they made up, and if his mental math was correct, very soon they would be expecting another child. 

But he had made a mistake; he focused on one thing and not the whole story. 

The morning of the day Alana had arrived back into Beacon Hills, Lorraine had called his mother with a warning. In her vision Lorraine had seen Malia dead on the grass in the preserve, Peter struggling to reach her going still when in a swipes of Alana’s claws Peter’s throat had been torn out. Leaving him like Malia dead in the preserve while Alana fled, at full strength, never to return or face justice for her crime. Talia had been ordered to shadow Peter. When neither of her children or grandchild returned his mother had tracked them down. 

Peter remembers that day far too well, Alana attacked him, left him struggling to heal with his injuries as she killed their child. He remembers his sister attacking, only 5 minutes behind them on the path, his sister had held her own against Alana. He had dragged himself towards his daughter, hopping that maybe she was just healing. He can hear his mothers roar still, feel his sister’s blood slicked hands pull him towards her as she begs him not to look. He had to look; his daughter was dead so he took in every detail as mother brutally killed Alana.

Alana’s newly returned abilities were nothing in comparison to an enraged alpha; she had already been struggling with Talia. The alpha was enraged, had every right to be. Alana had killed one of her grandchildren, harmed her children, and ruined her youngest, her baby from ever trusting or venturing out into the world without suspicion and fear influencing any choice he would ever make after this moment. 

Afterwards he had retreated into his writings, his art and his ability. No one questioned him, all they did was listen when he wanted to speak and where there when he needed them. He hated his ability because it had failed him. Later his mother would tell him, it wasn’t his future he was seeing. He was seeing a bigger picture, and all it was all those small pieces that made the bigger image possible. 

The smaller pieces were never forgotten.

…………………now…………

Loraine is brushing her teeth when the image starts to form in the bathroom mirror. There is a woman leaning over the tub in a bathroom that is not hers. It’s to lavish, a tub that is separate from everything just in the middle of the tiled room. There are no other details to that bathroom but the large tub tilted wall and ceiling, and the woman who is facing her, but Loraine can recognize them both. 

Loraine looks away for a moment to put her toothbrush down, when something different happens with her vision. All the other times she is just able to see but always with the real separation of her vision and the reality around her, the proof that she is still home and safe. This time she is now in the same bathroom as them, standing behind Claudia and watching her and Gemin. 

The room is cold, it smells like wet dirt and decay. 

Claudia is oblivious to Lorraine standing behind her, as Claudia leans over the tub and turns on the water and let it run the whole while her eyes are on her son. Gemin’s entire body from the top of his head to his toes is caked in red clay. His arms are wrapped tightly around his knees, keeping them pressed tightly to his chest. Claudia smiles, but he isn’t looking at her, wasn’t even talking, he didn’t seem to be focused on anything. He just sat there in the slowly filling tub staring straight ahead. 

“It won’t be long.” Claudia says softly. 

Claudia continues to smile at him as the water rises to his hips, then to his shoulders. None of the clay caked on Gemin’s body comes off, the water in the tub is still clean and clear, even when it reaches just at the start of his neck. Claudia turns the water off before it reaches the top of the tub, once the water stops Gemin finally looks at his mother, his eyes are the dull, pale and unseeing of the dead. 

“It won’t be long.” Claudia reminds. 

Claudia continues to smile bringing one of her hands to run along her son’s caked red hair. She continues to do this for a few moments before moving her hand to cradle the back of his head. Lorraine watches as Claudia places her other hand on his chest as she continues to cradle the back of his head with the other. Gemin continues to stare at his mother as she slowly begins to submerge him in the clean and clear water. 

“It won’t be long.” She repeats while lowering Gemin into the water. 

Gemin goes down easily into the water once he is submerged the clay begins to turns the water red. 

“It won’t be long.” She repeats before she slowly brings her stained red arms out of the water. 

As Loraine watches Claudia kneeling beside the tub, her arms stained red, flies start to emerge from the water, it starts as a few than hundreds as they fill the room. Claudia seems oblivious again, the more flies that leave the tub the lower the water goes, till there is nothing in the tub but a stain in the shape of a child’s body. 

Lorraine makes a move finally feeling that she is somehow able to now, she reaches for Claudia but stops. She can feel something behind her, can feel it staring at her. Lorraine turns, fear is not a luxury she can afford. Gemin stares at her, dirty and alive. He smiles at her, but it is not a smile a child would wear. His smile is dark, twisted in its intent and his eyes glow brighter than any she has ever seen before. 

There is a moment before Lorraine blinks and finds herself back in her own bathroom letting out a scream where she feels a moment of clarity. A small moment where something in her mind tells her that what she is seeing isn’t a warning for the Hale pack; this warning is meant for her. 

………………………………………

Claudia opens her eyes looking directly at the digital clock and the blinking red numbers she had last seen when she went to bed four hours ago. She is alone in her bed. That doesn’t alarm her, she knows where John is. He had been a workaholic before, now with Gemin missing, he has become obsessed. He spends every moment he can in his study, looking through every missing persons case, looking for a lead. He knows something, some detail Martha told him that he won’t share with anyone. 

He told her once that it wasn’t her fault, there was something in this place that took what it wanted and nothing could stop it. She wants to believe him but she knows deep down he’s wrong. Her mother calls her once a day. She tells her how her father has spoken to someone that can help. Someone that can help them get the boys back and if not stop the ones who took them. Both her parents ask her to be strong, tell her to not lose hope. 

She pulls the covers tighter around her. All she wants to do is sleep. In her dreams she’s with Gemin again, they talk, walk around Beacon Hills, Gemin is as he always was, curious about everything and wanting to know all that he can. 

Claudia closes her eyes and waits for sleep to claim her, so she can continue to have what she wants above all else, her son. 

…..end chapter 2


	3. Someplace Called Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pieces are in place all the game needs is the players.

“Do not be afraid; our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”  
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

Chapter 3: Someplace Called Home  
…..

Last night………

Sometimes in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep Stiles can’t help but be reminded of the story his father once told him about a boy raised by fairies. The boy in the story had a horrible habit of losing his shadow. It wasn’t the boys fault; somehow the boys shadow had developed a mind and will of its own. The boys shadow always did what it wanted to do. Sometimes what the shadow wanted to do was silly things, but there were other times when the boys shadow did horrible things. 

It is a story Stiles can relate to. 

Like the boy in the story, Stiles shadow has a mind and will of its own. During the day his shadow is just likes everyone else, but at night when everyone is asleep. That is when his shadow changes and sneaks away, sometimes asking Stiles to go with it. Stiles refuses most of the time, it might seem childish, but he doesn’t like the Inn at night when no one else is awake. It’s not that Stiles doesn’t trust his shadow, he does, but the other shadows in the Inn don’t. They turn away from it, staying perfectly still as it passes them. Some warn him that his shadow is dangerous, but Stiles can’t believe that. How can he believe that his shadow is something dangerous when it is after all, his shadow?

Like several other nights Stiles wakes to the feeling of his shadow tugging on his toes. Stiles blinks a few times as he wakes, letting his eyes adjust to the sight of his shadow towering over him on the bed. Once his shadow assures itself that Stiles is awake it begins to whisper his name. 

“Where are you going?” Stiles mouths. 

Stiles tries to make sure to be as still and silent as he possibly can. He doesn’t want to wake either Derek or his father up. Stiles carefully sits up as his shadow slowly starts slipping down the bed and towards the thin little gap under the door. His shadow whispers to him where it plans to go and asks him to come along. 

“I don’t like the basement.”He mouths, reminding it. 

Stiles doesn’t like the basement, but his shadow loves it. Stiles looks over towards his Father who is still surprisingly asleep. Usually His father will open one eye and look at him when Stiles is barely shuffling around on the bed. Derek does the same too, both wake at his slightest movement, and one is always ready to walk him back to bed when he tries to sneak around the room. Stiles assures himself that they have to be very tired. 

Just as his shadow slips under the door, Stiles mouths the word wait. His shadow quickly slips back under the door to return to Stiles, who is slowly and carefully climbing out of bed, once his feet are firmly on the floor the door to the suite opens. 

“Okay.” Stiles mouths before his shadow engulfs him and the suite door closes without a noise. 

……

Claudia knows this is a dream, but that won’t stop her from enjoying it. 

In her dream her son is cuddled against her side, as they read from a picture book she doesn’t remember ever purchasing. It’s a lovely book, carefully crafted, even the pictures. Whoever made this book did so with love; Claudia wonders who the book belongs to. 

“What happened after the spell was broken?” Gemin asks her.

“Well,” Claudia begins as she looks down at the page. “The fox didn’t know anyone was looking for him, but he was happy to see his pack. He was going to return to them, but then he saw her. The girl he believed his mate had chosen over him, and he remembered why he didn’t want to go back. The witch who didn’t want to lose the fox had come up with a plan. The witch told the Alpha if she killed the girl, he’d turn her skin into a suit for the fox.” 

“Did the Alpha kill her?” Gemin asks her, sounding horrified at the possibility. 

Claudia turns the page, looking at the girl hanging from the tree branch; she wants to change the story but finds herself unable as she continues reading. 

“The girl was hung from a tree, her neck broken, making her death quick. When she was cut down her body was given to the witch. Who true to his word, created a suit for the fox, but he did something else to it too.” Claudia leans in close, letting her voice drop into a whisper. “The witch burned the memory of her death, everything she felt and saw, burned it all so deeply into the skin it would never leave. When the fox, put the skin on, her memory of what had happened became the foxes.” 

Gemin lets out a little horrified gasp, Claudia smiles at him. “The fox was horrified. So he ran away from all of them, the witch who lied, the pack who he believed betrayed him, choosing instead be on his own.” 

When Claudia finishes the story, Gemin looks at her with a frown, and a thoughtful look on his face. 

“That wasn’t a happy ending.” Gemin says. 

“Not all stories have a happy ending.” Claudia reminds him. 

Gemin nods, “It should.” 

Claudia nods and holds him closer to her, “Should we read some more?” she asks him. Gemin nods, turning the page so Claudia can begin to read the next story. 

……

In the bedroom, four hours have passed since Stiles and his shadow left. No one would be the wiser if it weren’t for a lone shadow that was checking up on the quests of the inn. That shadow looks at the two occupants of the room, both sleeping. The shadow won’t wake the dreamer; the non shadow will know and come back. But the other one can be woken. The shadow leans in, and whispers into the ear of the other. A simple whispered command to wake up. 

Derek wakes up suddenly his heart is pounding in his chest. 

After a frantic check around the room for whatever it was that woke him, he turns his attention to the other bed. The first thing he notices is how his uncle is alone in the bed; the second is the pillow at the edge of the bed. Derek knows that pillow; it is Stiles favorite one, the only one Stiles will sleep with. Stiles practically cuddles with that pillow, sleeps curled around that pillow. Derek secretly hates that pillow, but he knows better than to touch it. 

“Stiles?” he calls out softly.

When there is no answer he climbs out of bed and heads over to the restroom, it wouldn’t be the first time Stiles has fallen asleep somewhere else. He remembers having to carry Stiles back to bed on several occasions. The most recent had been when Stiles had fallen asleep in the bathtub. Stiles claimed he had been too afraid of the dark to walk back to bed, leaving Derek unsure as to how the bathtub fitted into that logic. 

Only when Derek walks towards the bathroom, he notices the light is off and the door closed. 

He glances back at the bed, his uncle would normally be mumbling at him to be quiet by now or at least be asking what was wrong. Instead his uncle sleeps, undisturbed and unmoving. Since Stiles, his uncle has not been a deep sleeper. Waking at the slightest movement, and checking in on both of them.

“Stiles.” He repeats as he opens the bathroom door, finding it empty, just to be sure he turns on the light and checks the bathtub, finding it empty. 

“Uncle Peter.” He calls out as he exits the bathroom. 

There is not even a change in his uncles breathing, Derek looks around the room again; his panic is causing his shift to trigger. His fangs and claws are out and ready, this isn’t normal. He lets out a growl, a warning to whoever is doing this. For a second his sense of smell is overcome with the scents of dirt, decay and age. The scents are overwhelming almost chocking him in their intensity; tears are forming at the corners of his eyes, before the scent, the smell is gone. The smell is replaced by one he knows well, the sugar cookies scent of magic and Stiles. Behind him he can hear when the bathroom light is turned off, he turns quickly to face the open doorway. 

Stiles is standing in the doorway, drinking from a glass of water he holds in his hands. Stiles blinks up at him, looking sleepy and confused. Derek stares at him, eyebrows rising in disbelief while he stares. Derek knows Stiles hadn’t been in the bathroom, Stiles had not even been in their room. He opens his mouth to demand some type of answer from him, but Stiles interrupts. 

“Water?” Stiles asks holding out the glass for Derek to take. 

Derek takes it from him, holding it as Stiles ambles past him to the bed. As Stiles clumsily climbs on the bed, and grabs his discarded pillow with a little gasp of pleasure at being reunited. Not once is Peter disturbed from his sleep, even when Stiles and his pillow plop themselves on to Peter’s side. Once Stiles is comfortable he looks toward Derek, who is still standing there with the glass of water in his hand. 

“Good night Derek.” Stiles tells him from where he lies tucked against Peters side with his cuddled pillow. 

Derek doesn’t respond, he doesn’t have a chance to. Stiles is asleep barely seconds after those words leave his lips. Derek closes the bathroom door, walks over to the only entrance to the suite. Derek checks that it is still locked, before he walks over to his bed. This whole thing is bothering Derek, slowly he settles back into his own bed, facing the two sleeping on the other bed. This is something he’ll wait until the morning to ask his uncle about. Stiles might be able to use magic. Void used magic, but so far Stiles seemed to be about as magically inclined as Derek. Uncle Peter would know more. 

Derek tries to settle back into sleep but it remains elusive to him as his mind continues to catalog what happened. The thing that bothers him the most is that smell. He doesn’t fall asleep until early morning. 

…………..the next day………..

Kate is not afraid of what lurks in the dark. 

As an Argent she is well aware of what lurks in the dark, but she has never had a reason to fear it.

One could say that quite possibly the things that lurk in the dark should fear her. 

Kate, now Katherine Price as her new identity is called sits calmly and smugly in her office chair. Her new office as the Beacon Hills historian is in the Beacon hills library. The Library is in the middle of Hale territory; in fact it is one of the several buildings the Hales contribute to. 

Kate cannot stop smiling, the wards the witches gave her are doing their job. She smells human, like a completely nonthreatening human, nothing like the threat she really is. Chris had been worried over nothing, she can’t blame him for that, he has always been the more responsible one out of them. She can imagine him right now already planning every exit strategy he can think of, maybe even preparing what to say to their father if he needs to call in for backup. 

She looks at the ornate clock on her office wall. In less than thirty minutes she has a meeting with John Stilinski. The deputy is a man that she very much wants to meet. She is prepared for their meeting; in her possession is a hard cover copy of William Barrow’s journal. Not many people knew the story of William Barrow, he had been covered up and buried in history, very few remembered the name, and much less what he had done. 

But she did, her father told them the story of Alexander Argent, how he almost had died during a hunt, but he had been saved and nursed back into health by a man named William Barrow. In return for the aid, Alexander told the man the truth. Monsters were real, but the monsters could be killed. It was almost two years after their meeting when a journal had arrived, it had been addressed for one Alexander Argent. 

In that journal was Barrows written account of the days he met and nursed Alexander to the day before Barrows death. Officially Barrow had been killed in a random animal attack while attempting to flee during his transfer from the local Jail to Eichen house. 

She has a feeling John will become an ally once he reads it. The truth has a habit of making people see her side.  
………….

Katherine Hale, the alpha of the Hale pack stands in her living room watching the scene before her in amusement. She is too old to feel anything else when dealing with a situation like this. 

Talia her oldest and only daughter is staring at Cora with an expression that was a cross between horrified and disbelieving. Apparently Cora, her youngest granddaughter is under the belief that Void, after he married Derek is going to lay eggs and will be in need of a nest. So Cora had started to build a nest in Derek’s room, because those eggs would be her nieces and nephews, and Cora wanted to make them love her the most. Joining in on the nest building was her oldest grandchild Laura and the son of a distant cousin Parrish. 

“I was helping.” Laura informed her mother and grandmother with the authority only an oldest child can muster when faced with situations like this. Laura is well aware her younger siblings is probably wrong, but the idea of building a nest for their brothers mate seemed like something she wanted to join in on. No doubt ready to add in a few repeated quotes on how siblings need to be supporting and spend time tighter in her defense. 

“That was very nice of you both to help Cora.” Katherine informed her grandmother and the nervous Parrish. “Void will love his nest.” 

“Foxes don’t lay eggs.” Talia said as the shock of what she had been told finally wore off.

Cora stared at her, “But Void is a magic fox.”

There was a pause as they all stared at Cora, taking in her words and wondering just for a moment, if it was possibility because of the magic part. Talia shook her head and blinked away any images that had dared to be imagined before she looked at Katherine, who only smiled sweetly at Cora. 

“That he is, add some blankets and pillows to the nest. Void should be comfortable.” Katherine, the alpha said far too calmly for Talia’s liking. 

Cora nodded at her grandmother and ran off to continue making the nest, Laura and Parrish following behind her. 

Talia stared at her mother who only nodded and smiled, “Children.” Katherine says watching as her daughter nodded. 

“I know mom, children.” Talia replied, she knew what her mother meant. 

Talia was apprehensive she had every reason to be, in two days her son and brother were coming home. Along with them was Void, the spoiled child her son had chosen as a mate, while her mother has continuously reminded her that all children were difficult when dealing with this process it was worse for those who were removed from their own packs. The normal procedure for this was removal at the earliest moment possible. Void had been a little older and accustomed to being returned to his mother and pack when he requested it. Talia rubbed her shoulders, were she kept all her tension and sighed. Her brother had promised her that Void was different, and everything was going to get better. 

“Is James nervous?” Katherine asks. 

Talia sighs, “He says everything is going to fine, I’m just over thinking it.” there is a long pause before Talia just starts talking. “I don’t think I am, my son should be happy, finding a mate is supposed to be a happy occasion, not whatever this is. I just, it feels wrong.” 

Katherine stares at her daughter, she doesn’t like seeing her children in type of turmoil. “You were very lucky Talia when it came to James. He was from another pack, a hybrid of our kind,” Katherine added unable to ever let that little detail go, “but he was old enough to understand what was happening. He grew up with you, and you both had the time to learn and adapt. Derek is older than Void in all the ways that make a difference. It is going to be difficult but that doesn’t mean Derek won’t be happy.” 

Talia let out a scoffing noise, “Peter has decided to take on the role of parent to Void.” 

Katherine sits beside her daughter on the sofa and pulls her into a hug, “Peter knows what he is doing, and he will only do what is best for Derek.” Talia lets out another scoff, “We all will do what is best for Derek.” 

……..

Katherine Price is not who John was expecting. 

He had been expecting someone who looked like they had been alive when Beacon Hills had been founded. 

Katherine Price is young, attractive and sauntering towards him in high heels and a dress that looks like something out of the magazine his wife orders her underwear from. He had remarked to Claudia more than once that he would gladly pay for one. Seeing it one someone else makes him glad she refused his offer. 

“John Stilinski.” She greets him holding out her hand. 

John takes it, but it’s not her beauty that has him transfixed, it’s the feeling in his gut that tells him she’s bad news that makes him stare a little longer than what might be appropriate. 

“Katherine Price.” He greets back. 

She continues to smile at him as she squeezes his hand. “I hope you know I am praying that your boy is returned back to you safe.” she tells him. She doesn’t release his hand, holding it firmly now between both of hers. John stares at her, he swears the medallion he wears around his neck feels warm, she lets go of his hand never losing smile. 

“Thank you.” He tells her. 

She nods and motions for him to follow her. “I pulled out all I could on Beacon hills for you and what I could find on the original town.” She informs him as she walks, “I remembered you also wanted to know about the legends and I found a journal for you. It was in storage but I believe it might be useful to you.” 

“Original town?” he asks her as they reach her office. 

She opens the door for him; he can see the folders, maps and books on the table, but all the attention is meant for a leather journal placed in the center. Katherine walks in after him, closing the door silently behind her. 

“Beacon Hills was first in Oregon, but a fire caused the entire town to move to where it is now, in the center of the Hale preserve.” Katherine informs him while John opens up one of the folders and looks at the copies of newspapers clippings. All about missing persons, animal attacks, suicides and massacres. 

Katherine touches the journal, her thin manicured fingers brushing the leather cover, “Have you ever heard of William Barrow?” she asks him, as she stares at the journal. 

“No.” he answers. He never has heard that name. Then again he didn’t even know that Beacon Hills had originally been in Oregon or burned down. 

“What do you know about the legends surrounding Beacon Hills?” Katherine asks him. 

“Not as much as I’d like to,” he tells her, “but I know there are stories about a guardian, some giant dog?” 

Katherine smiles at him, “Some would say a monster lives in the preserve.” She opens the journal to the first page where a penned drawing of a giant black dog in the trees stares at them. “William Barrow believed that he had found a way to identify monsters, claimed their eyes glowed.”

John stares at her; he remembers Gemin’s eyes glowing. The bright amber light of his son’s eyes but his son was not like that creature in the drawing. His son was a curious child not a monster. 

Katherine traces her finger along the drawing, “He was killed in an animal attack while on his way to Eichen House,” Katherine pulls her hand away, bringing it to toy with her necklace. “He kept this journal, it was the only one he ever kept, wrote in till the day he was transferred from the prison to Eichen House.” Katherine was staring at him now. “I think that journal might have the answers you are looking for.”

John picks up the journal and stares at it. 

…………..

Chris hates waiting. 

He can be very patient; he has waited in worse places and in worse situations than this. 

When he was younger he and his sister had camped out in the catacombs below Paris, piles of bones greeting them each morning. They had remained to keep the curious out while the experienced hunters searched further in for whatever was lurking in the tunnels. 

Chris stares at the screen on his laptop watching a video from a website dedicated to the supernatural, especially Beacon Hills and William Barrow. The website has a documentary on Barrow, old pictures, news clippings and illustrations show on the screen as a voice narrates. Surprisingly the story is accurate.

To the uninformed the story told from Barrows journal sounds like a descent into madness. Barrow had become obsessed with those he claimed had glowing eyes. Before he had been killed in an animal attack on his way to be transferred to Eichen house, he had burned down parts of the original town, claiming that those he had killed were monsters. He had been able to keep them trapped in the building with a mix of ash and herbs. Barrow claimed when the Hales arrived, they had caused the rings of ash and herbs he had placed around the buildings and the town to burn. Once it did, those that weren’t trapped in the burning buildings fled and the Hales descended upon the town, putting out the fire and helping the survivors. 

Chris stopped the video, finding it imperative that he search the site, on of the pages was dedicated to the different types of supernatural beings that lived in Beacon Hills and how to protect oneself against them. 

One thing he noticed was a classification that he had seen once before on a case in Japan. 

Kitsune. 

He stared at the word. Why would a Kitsune be in Beacon Hills, they remained in Oak Creek or areas with a high population of their own kind. They weren’t as pack minded as the other shifters, but they stayed together in close groups, similar to a family. If there was a lone Kitsune, it meant a high chance it was either rouge or out to avenge a wrong committed against it. 

Kitsunes didn’t mix with certain shape shifters, or Hell Hounds. He had seen one instance when a Kitsune had been traveling with a shape shifter; it had been an alliance out of necessity. He knew where that shifter had settled, but lost track of the Kitsune.

Chris returned to the home page of the website, he wanted to know who ran it and how they knew the information they did. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. He knew the number and answered before the end of the third ring. 

“Katherine.” He greeted. 

“Christian, I am having a meeting with deputy Stilinski, he wants to know about the legends.” she begins to tell him, her eyes glancing around the room, no one is paying attention to her. One of the wards on her bracelet which looks more like a charm bracelet from Pandora, thanks to some ingenious witches and craftsmen, lets her if there is any form of supernatural beings around, at the moment only humans. Humans a far enough distance away that they won’t be able to hear her conversation with her brother. 

Her brother interrupts her, “There’s a website dedicated to Beacon Hills, William Barrow and an accurate list of all the supernatural creatures that can be found in Beacon Hills.” 

Kate pauses, “Who runs the site?” she asks. 

“I’m looking into it, but there’s something weird with this Katherine. It lists a Kitsune in Beacon Hills.” 

Kate smiles as she continues her conversation, “I’ll be fine, take care of yourself.” 

Both siblings stare at their phone after they hang up, sharing the same look of concern. 

…………

Derek waits until Stiles is spending time with his grandmother before he decides to tell his uncle about last night. When he enters the room Peter has taken for his study, he feels almost grateful that Peter is alert and expecting him. 

“Derek.” Peter greets a little surprised to see him. 

Derek stares at him for awhile trying to figure out how to say what he needs to. Peter stares at him with raised eyebrows that indicate he is waiting and will soon lose patience and return to his books. 

“Stiles can use magic.” Derek blurts out. 

Peter closes his book and places it on the table, giving Derek his full attention. 

“He can keep us asleep while he leaves the room. He doesn’t need a door to leave.” Derek continues trying to explain, but he does not understand magic, or how Stiles is doing it or if Stiles even means to do it. 

Peter reopens his journal and frowns, his nephew has just informed him that Stiles is able to not only leave without alerting them but keep them asleep as he does so. Without his dreams he wakes easily now, the slightest movement or noise has him opening his eyes and making sure Stiles is fine. He knows he would wake if Derek was calling for him. 

“What was he doing?” Peter asks feeling the knot of tension growing in his stomach. 

“Getting water.” Derek answers. 

“Was he alone, was there anyone else with him, anything different.” Peter asks, feeling almost hysterical as he searches for a certain entry in his journal. 

“No,” Derek pauses, “there was a bad smell.” He adds his nose wrinkling at the memory of it.

Peter finds the journal entries that he had been reviewing earlier in the week. 

_The son is certain that with the useful little tricks the shadow has been teaching him, no one will wake as he sneaks out the bedroom. The son waits for the shadow to open the door for him, before he glances back into the room taking in their sleeping forms. His father, the dreamer would be upset if he knew. The shadow tells him it will be better for both of them if no one knows. When the shadow opens the door the son follows it out into the darkened and empty hallways. As they walk the shadow stretches on the walls, ceiling and floor engulfing the son in darkness. Other shadows in the hallways turn away, going very still a sign of fear and submission._

_The son doesn’t understand when the other shadows whisper to him that he needs to be careful, what the son follows is not a shadow, it is something different. Something dark and old that has latched on to the son, but the son doesn’t understand. The son is not afraid; the shadow is his friend and teacher. The shadow protects him, and promises to do so forever._

Derek watches as his uncle, who has gotten into screaming matching with both their Alpha and Derek’s mother suddenly goes pale. 

“We leave today.” Peter says suddenly. ”Pack your things, we leave today.” 

____When Derek just continues stares at him, Peter snaps “Go pack.”_ _ _ _

____Derek goes to do as he has been ordered, leaving Peter in his study staring at the journal._ _ _ _

____….._ _ _ _

____John needs a break._ _ _ _

____Katherine has been in and out of her office, answering any questions and offering information that he needs. He is not ungrateful for her help but at times she tries to direct where his investigation into the legends and history of Beacon Hills goes._ _ _ _

____What bothers him in his investigation into the lore of Beacon Hill is that journal._ _ _ _

____It sounds like the gradual ramblings of a madman._ _ _ _

____The first few entries are from a sane man, recounting his finding and nursing of an injured hunter._ _ _ _

____A lone hunter had been attacked by the strangest animal Barrow had never seen. The description of the animal makes no sense, while it was walking on four legs; it resembled nothing of the animals Barrow had regularly seen. It was not a bear, wolf, or some strange type of canine. The fur was black, but was more consistent with smoke; the strangest part was the flames and red eyes. While Barrow had no name for that animal, he knew it was the creature from the legend. All the locals knew about that animal but never feared it; claimed it was the protector of the land. The hunter survived the attack, but would need a place to stay while he healed. Barrow brought him back to his home on the outskirts of where Beacon Hills originally used to be._ _ _ _

____After those entries, Barrow started to sound insane._ _ _ _

____The hunter Barrow had saved name was never written down, only referred to as the hunter, started to tell Barrow things. The hunter claimed there were several ways to identify the monsters who resided in the preserve and Beacon Hills. The monsters while able to pass as human had a certain tell, their glowing eyes. Certain plants, symbols and ashes could trap the monsters, even hurt them._ _ _ _

____John rubbed his eyes and frowned, his rational brain was telling him Barrow had simply gone insane, isolation, a bad winter and the ravings of an injured hunter lead to Barrows gradual fall into mental instability. But the other part of him that acknowledged seeing Gemin’s eyes glow, and had the experience of knowing something that he couldn’t explain or defend against was in his house. That part knew the madness in the journal made sense._ _ _ _

____John closes the journal; he needs to talk to his mother-in-law._ _ _ _

____The door to the office opens again, Katherine saunters back in looking just so pleased to see him still there. He looks at the clock on the wall; he has been here for quite some time, hours._ _ _ _

____“Deputy Stilinski.” She greets him._ _ _ _

____“Ms. Price.” He greets back, as he is carefully putting everything she had handed him back into the folders she originally had them in._ _ _ _

____“Did you have any questions?” she asks him._ _ _ _

____“No ma’am. I think I have all that I need.” John tells her._ _ _ _

____Katherine smiles at him and nods, “I am sorry that we didn’t have more time together, if you need to speak to me again please, don’t hesitate to contact me.”_ _ _ _

____John smiles at her, it’s genuine. “Thank you, I think you will be hearing from me again.”_ _ _ _

____Katherine watches him leave, she already knows that he didn’t take anything, but she can tell that he made copies, can tell by the blinking light on the copier machine._ _ _ _

____……_ _ _ _

____Peter will admit, he is partly responsible for how much of a brat Stiles is capable of being. He is indulgent with him, and he knows that very few, including himself ever set limits for Stiles. So Peter should not have been surprised at the turn of events. Stiles has locked himself in the bathroom, making it perfectly clear that he does not want to go to Beacon Hills._ _ _ _

____Peter looks at Derek who is looking lost and sighs. “Get the rest of the luggage.” Peter orders Derek, who nods and gladly leaves. Peter for a brief moment feels sorry for his nephew, because Stiles is Derek’s mate and soon to be responsibility till death do they part._ _ _ _

____“Stiles.” Peter says calmly._ _ _ _

____Stiles doesn’t answer him, but Peter can hear him shuffling around and mumbling to himself that he is not going to Beacon Hills. Peter can understand that this should have been handled differently but they cannot stay here, not now._ _ _ _

____“Stiles.” Peter repeats._ _ _ _

____“I’m not going to Beacon Hills!!” Stiles yells from the safety of the bathtub, where he currently seeking shelter with his favorite pillow clutched to his chest. He can hear the thud of what has to be either a head or hand hitting the closed door._ _ _ _

____“Stiles, open the door.” Peter says sounding to calm._ _ _ _

____“No.” Stiles snaps back._ _ _ _

____“Stiles,” Peter says Stiles name again in that too calm tone that means he is really angry but determined not to take it out on him._ _ _ _

____“No, you want to hear it in Spanish, No!” he yells back._ _ _ _

____“Stiles, you don’t even know Spanish.” His father reminds him._ _ _ _

____Peter rests his head on the door again, he reminds himself that this is to expected, it is a sudden change and maybe letting Derek blurt out that they would never be coming back to Oak Creek, was not the best of situation starters._ _ _ _

____“I do now!” he answers back._ _ _ _

____Peter sighs, his nephew returns carrying all the bags and staring at him with raised eyebrows. But Peter refuses to give in, “Stiles.” Peter pleads, “Let’s just try Beacon Hills out, if you don’t like it we’ll come back.” Derek stares at Peter like he offered to sacrifice someone’s first born child. “Besides Derek needs to go home and see his mother, my sister.”_ _ _ _

____“Can we take grandmother?” Stiles asks._ _ _ _

____“No, but you get to meet your other grandmother, my mother, you get to have two grandmothers.”_ _ _ _

____Both can hear it when Stiles crawls out of the tub and towards the door. Stiles opens the door looks at Peter and nods._ _ _ _

____“Okay.” Stiles agrees._ _ _ _

____Derek looks at both of them and motions to the bags he is carrying, his own and Stiles. Peter nods, and stands grabbing his packed bags from the bed. He carries them on one arm, using the other to carry Stiles. For a brief moment, Peter is glad Stiles has stopped aging, 10 is still a perfectly easy carrying age. With the ways Stiles has latched on, he doubts the brat will want to be put down until he feels secure._ _ _ _

____Which knowing Stiles will be quite awhile._ _ _ _

____Derek returns to his normal glaring while Stiles clings to Peter.  
………_ _ _ _

____Dinner would be in a few hours, everyone is spread out in the Hale house. Katherine is sitting in the living room watching episodes from her favorite soap when she hears the sound of her grandson complaining, her son mumbling that about packing with foresight in mind and a new voice. She was not expecting them at least for another two days, hearing them has her nervous that something has happened. She walks quickly to the cellar door already knowing the rest of the pack has probably heard them as well._ _ _ _

____“It smells strange.” The new voice, a child’s voice says._ _ _ _

____“You mean it smells new.” Katherine hears Peter corrects._ _ _ _

____Katherine enters the cellar smiling widely at seeing her missing pack members. Derek smiles brightly at her, her son shares the same smile, but its Voids sudden shy response that has her attention. Void clings a little tighter to Peter and like a child turns away. Peter turns his attention away from her, she watches as he carefully places his two bags of luggage down to free his hand. He strokes the back of Voids head and smiles, the look on his face makes Katherine heart break in a good way._ _ _ _

____In that smile is the son she thought she would never see again._ _ _ _

____Katherine smiles while Derek glares and scowls at the scene. Katherine walks over to him and hugs him, Derek relaxes into the hold and smiles._ _ _ _

____“Hi grandma.” He tells her sweetly._ _ _ _

____“My beautiful little boy, how are you doing?” She asks him. He shrugs out a response but doesn’t move away from her._ _ _ _

____“Mom, when you have time I would like to speak to you.” Peter tells her, there is an undertone of urgency in his voice that has her agreeing quickly and without question._ _ _ _

____“My beautiful little boy.” Katherine says to her grandson before kissing him on the forehead, “Go say hello to your mother while I talk with Peter and Void.” Katherine tells her grandson, who looks a little hesitant but nods and does as she says. Once she is certain that Derek is gone and hears the cellar door close behind him, she looks at her son and Void._ _ _ _

____“Mom this is Stiles, he is the result of Gemin and Void binding.” Peter tells her._ _ _ _

____Katherine stares at the boy, she takes in how he is clinging to her son, the look of uncertainty in those eyes and her heart melts._ _ _ _

____“She’s my mother, the Alpha of the pack, your other grandmother.” Peter whispers to him. “Remember what I told you about Alphas.” Peter adds, as he leans down to place Stiles on the floor. Stiles refuses to let go, staring straight at Peter with watery eyes. Peter sighs and stands, looking embarrassed by Stiles actions._ _ _ _

____“That’s fine Peter.” Katherine says, as she slowly walks over to Stiles and Peter. “Let me take a look at you.” She looks at Stiles, he stares right back at her. “Don’t worry sweetheart, the rest of the pack won’t see you until tomorrow, you need to get settled in.” Katherine touches Stiles gently on his cheek. He stares at her for a moment before he smiles at her. She hugs him and Peter; “My boys are home.” she tells them._ _ _ _

____…end chapter 3_ _ _ _


	4. This Place Called Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is the safest place

“All things truly wicked start from innocence.”   
― Ernest Hemingway

Chapter 4: This Place Called Home

……..long ago…

Long ago a Kitsune took on a human form. 

It was not the first of its kind to do so and it would not be the last. 

While the Kitsune had been young when the war ended and the barrier created, it remembered what it had been like to move freely in that realm, to be a god among cattle. Now he was only a mere shadow of what he had once been. He had been curious about the girl child he had seen playing around the temple that once worshiped his family. So he had squeezed through the cracks in the barrier, found someone to do his bidding while he built up his magic to complete his human form. 

Years later another Kitsune took a human form.

Like the one before her, she had squeezed through the cracks. 

The Kitsune was not afraid, she wanted to walk, live and exist among the humans. 

For years the Kitsune had watched, learning and memorizing the ways and appearances of the humans at the temple with the older Kitsune to protect and teach her. When she felt that she was ready, the older Kitsune had taken her to the pond, and taught her how to change her reflection. Slowly as the days went by her reflection in the water started to change, soon she would have a human form. 

The Kitsune waited patiently knowing it would walk among the humans and no one would ever suspect a thing. 

While the Kitsune would live to regret what it had helped the older Kitsune do. She would always value the knowledge he shared with her and the lessons he had taught her. 

……………the first night…..

Derek as he has been raised to do obeys his alpha and leaves, reluctantly, the three of them in the cellar. 

Derek feels conflicted about leaving, he doesn’t want to leave Void-now wanting to be called Stiles-alone, but at the same time, he is home. He knew that he had missed being home and finally being back, he can’t quite describe how happy he is to be home. He can sense his mother before he sees her standing in the hallway waiting for him. 

He can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face when as she hugs him and he clings to her, “I missed you.” his mother tells him. 

He missed her too and doesn’t want to let her go, even when his sisters suddenly surrounding them. He missed them too but he won’t admit that aloud, ever. 

“Where’s your uncle?” his mother asks. 

“With Grandmother.” He tells her, smiling as he feels a familiar large and warm hand settle on the top of his head, his father ruffles his hair. 

“Derek.” His father greets happily. 

Laura places her hand on his shoulder and Cora grabs his arm. He is surrounded by his family; he preens silently under their affection.

“And Void,” his father asks looking to tease Derek about the new body his mate is wearing. 

“With Peter.” He answers annoyed. 

His father nods, everyone is used to this reaction from him when it comes to anything Void and Peter related. His father plays with his hair, and his mother is still holding him close. 

“Do you want to see the nest?” Cora asks. 

“Of course he does.” His father answers looking pleased, “Cora worked very hard on making that nest for Void.” 

Derek looks at his younger sibling who is looking far too pleased with herself. His older sister Laura looks pleased as well, he feels that she had a hand in this nest for Void as well. His mother gives him a little squeeze and pushes him towards Laura who gleefully takes him by the arm and drags him towards his own room. 

He looks back at his parents but they are not watching him being dragged off, they are staring in the direction of the cellar. He knows their waiting and feels a little sting of annoyance that he will not be included in whatever conversation is about to happen.  
…..

In an apartment somewhere in New York, a small charm has broken in half. A small child who was coloring at the coffee table in the living room stops and looks surprised. She puts her crayon down and rushes to the kitchen where her mother has been tending to the herb garden. 

“Mommy.” The girl calls urgently. 

Her mother looks away from the herbs and towards her. “Kira?” her mother asks concerned. 

“Mommy, it broke on its own.” Kira tells her mother. 

“What broke?’ her mother asks, Kira grabs her mother hand and tries to drag her to the living room where the shrine is. Her mother follows, stopping when she sees the charm. 

The fox charm is broken down the middle, one half still stands; the other has crumbled into dust. 

“Kira, go to your room.” Her mother calmly tells her. 

Kira rushes to do as her mother asks, leaving her mother staring at the shrine.

Noshiko remains calm despite internally she is feeling several emotions, none put her at any ease. That charm was created to be a warning, to let her know if the Nogitsune she had accidentally unleashed ever returns. To many years ago to count she and Satomi had barely managed to seal it away. She doesn’t know what could have brought it back but she knows she has a responsibility to stop it and whoever it is that unleashed it. 

…..

Katherine walks back up the cellar steps listening to her son talk to Stiles. The conversation that she just had with him is frightening in some ways, she is well aware of her sons journals. She has read all of them, from the ones that made sense to the ones that she can’t understand. Seeing Stiles, knowing what he is, has her wondering if she can protect her son and pack. 

Stiles is something that hasn’t been seen in a long time. His potential is limitless, he is everything that Void and Gemin would have been, could have been, and should have been. That boy holds a special place in her pack, he is the adopted child of her son, the mate to her grandson and if her sons journals are correct, one who will change the world. 

Feeling like the weight of the world has just settled itself onto her shoulders Katherine takes note that her daughter and son-in-law are waiting for her in the hallway. From the looks on their faces, this will be a tense conversation. She won’t tell them what Stiles is, the lack of that knowledge is one of the protections she can offer them. 

Talia looks nervous, and James looks prepared to speak on his wife’s and son’s behalf if needed. James may be docile but she knows he will defend his family with everything and more that he has at his deposal.

“There was a side effect with the binding; he has no memory till he woke up in Oak Creek.” Katherine tells them, “But he imprinted on Peter and is very fond of Derek.” Talia lets out a sigh of relief at her mother’s words, her son in law relaxes once Talia does, “I suggest we begin planning for the earliest ceremony that we can.” Katherine adds, “I believe that we have waited long enough.”

“We’ll have to start calling in all of the pack and allies, this will be a big event.” James tells them. “He is the your first grandchild to be married.” 

“Void needs time to get used to this new environment, when he is ready he and Peter will join us. Until then let him and Peter be.” Her words are law to her pack. She turns and walks back to the cellar; she will be escorting her son and Stiles to their room. 

James watches his mother-in-law leave, he has known her since he was six, has lived under the same roof as her since before he even understood what being a mate meant. He knows her, and he knows when she is keeping secrets. He knows that she isn’t telling them everything. He doesn’t expect her to, not really. 

He theorizes that what happened to Void might have something to do with either Peter or Derek. 

If it did, he knows it will be covered up and fixed without anyone being the wiser. 

……

Peter glances around the cellar trying to see if anything has changed since the last time he had been there. It surprisingly looks the same, he doesn’t know if that should make him pleased or disappointed. Stiles squirms around in his arms but is refusing to be put down. He sighs and shifts Stiles into what he hopes will be a more comfortable position for the both of them. 

“Where are we going to sleep?” Stiles asks. 

“We can sleep in my old room, or you can sleep in Derek’s.” Peter answers. 

“I want to stay with you.” Stiles answers back. He can tell from the look in Stiles eyes he will throw a tantrum if anyone tries to tell him otherwise. 

“My room it is.” Peter agrees. 

Peter understands that in this new environment everything must seem terrifying to Stiles. There are new sounds, scents and unfamiliar people, if Stiles wants to cling to his father than he will. Because it doesn’t matter that the alpha promised Stiles that he was safe here, or that no one in the pack would bother him until Stiles felt safe, and decided that he wanted to join them. Stiles didn’t know her, Peter might have explained how a pack and Alpha works but he is a child and to him only his father’s words matter. 

Peter rubs Stiles back hoping to calm him. Peter feels safe; he knows his mother will explain what happened to the rest of the pack. How there was a problem with the binding, and one of the effects was memory loss. No one will question her, his sister will drop any objections once his mother announces how she wants to expedite the date her grandson and Void can be mated. 

That thought has Peter feeling uncomfortable; he will never be ready for that day. 

Stiles nuzzles his cheek against Peters, he continues to do this until the cellar door opens again. Both look up at her, Stiles smiles sweetly at her and is rewarded with another cuddle with both his new grandmother and Peter. 

“We will both be staying in my room.” Peter tells his mother who is smiling at Stiles and cooing at him. 

……

Parrish had been doing push-ups when he felt the pull at the pack bonds; he had been in the middle of one when he had heard them. He didn’t rush to get to his pack mates; he waited because he knew that there could never be a moment with Derek involved that didn’t involve drama. 

Parrish slowly walks towards them; he should have realized that with his luck there was a good chance he was going to run into someone. That someone was more than one, he turned the corner and there was his alpha, Peter and who he expects is Void. 

Void does not look as Parrish was expecting. He had expected to see a child clinging to Peter; instead there is an almost preteen, the sight makes Parrish eyes widen. He had imagined all the scenarios and excuses that would have been used over the years as the pack hid Void until people forgot about the missing boys. 

Now if it weren’t for those eyes, Parrish would not have recognized Void. 

When Void meets his gaze they both hold the eye contact, at some point Parrish knows his eyes flash red in response while the amber ones seem to glow brighter and brighter till it’s like looking directly at the sun. 

“Parrish,” his alphas voice breaks the staring contest, Parrish blinks and rubs at his eyes, “Join the others in Derek’s room and make sure Derek catches up on his school work.” 

He nods, leaving as quickly as he can while appearing to be walking; he refuses to look back at them or at Void. Once he knows he is out of their line of sight he breaks into a quick jog, then a run towards Derek’s room where he can hears his pack mates. When he enters the room Derek is unpacking and ignoring his sisters who are practically vibrating in their eagerness for Derek to break down and tell them everything.

Parrish silently to only himself admits that he wants to know what happened as well, but he won’t give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that. 

“I think Voids nest is wonderful.” Cora reminds, feeling a little miffed that her brother is avoiding the subject of the nest that is in the corner of the room by the only window. 

Parrish looks at the nest; he will proudly and silently admit that it is nice. There are plush pillows and warm blankets in a nice cedar finish bed frame, it’s a fancy version of a cat’s bed but they made it. Not that it matters, Void has a human skin now and he doesn’t know if Void can shift back into a fox. 

“He looks older than Cora.” Parrish mumbles as he looks at the nest.

“What?” Laura asks, she hadn’t seen Void yet. 

Derek stops packing and glares at Parrish. “Void has human skin now.” 

“Wasn’t the witch Cora’s age, can he still turn into a fox?” Laura asks. 

“Peter says Void might have forgotten how to,” Derek answers, “he forgot everything else.”, he adds feeling the need to vent to someone who isn’t his uncle and wont snark back at him or turn Void-now Stiles-against him. Everyone is staring at him, he glares at them, “He doesn’t remember being Void, he gave himself a new name, thinks Peter is his father and doesn’t remember me.” 

“That sucks.” Parrish admits. “What name did he choose?”

Derek just glares at him. 

“What’s his name, why did he forget everything, why does he think Peter is his father and why is he older than Cora?” Laura questions. 

Derek glare intensifies and Parrish knows that the dramatic beta blames him. 

………

“This is your father’s room.” Katherine tells Stiles; her eyes are soft as she stares at the newest addition to her pack. Stiles looks around the room, Peter tries to put him down for a moment but Stiles clings to him. Peter looks at his mother and smiles a little embarrassed at Stiles behavior in front of their alpha. 

“Tomorrow he will be braver.” Katherine tells Peter, used to this shy behaviors, as she too had children, she places a kiss on both of their foreheads before leaving. 

When they are alone and the door is closed, Stiles finally allows Peter to put him down, as Peter moves to unpack Stiles begins to wander around the room. 

The very first thing Peter unpacks is Stiles pillow. 

Stiles rushes towards him and grabs it from Peters hand letting out a little gasp of pleasure as he hugs the pillow tightly to himself. Peter can’t help the smile that spreads on his face as Stiles breathes in the scent of the pillow and lets out a sigh. 

While Peter returns to unpacking Stiles looks around the room, it is smaller than the one they all shared at the Inn, darker and looks more like what Stiles had come to expect from the study Peter had than a bedroom. It smells like Peter, paper, books and art supplies. Nothing in here smells like home, he misses the scent of flowers, fresh linen, and sunlight. This is not home; this is Peters home and Derek’s home, but not his. 

Nothing in here is his. 

There is no place here for him.

Stiles is pulled out of his thoughts by his father voice, “Tomorrow we can shop for things that will make this room feel more like home.” Peter tells Stiles who has moved towards the bed looking put out. 

“I miss the furs.” Stiles whispers as he climbs on to the bed and starts to make himself comfortable. 

“We can find some furs.” Peter agrees, Stiles moves around under the comforter trying to find a comfortable spot. Stiles misses the furs and quilts he used to wrap himself in. “Maybe some flowers.” Peter adds, seeing Stiles peek his head out from the covers. He knows the boy has a thing for smelling the flowers and rolling around in them when and where he can. 

“Grandma said I can have cookies or chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast.” Stiles informs his father, even if Peter had been there when the offer had been made. Normally Peter would not allow that kind of choices for a breakfast but this seems appropriate given the situation.

“You want both don’t you?” Peter says smiling at the wide smile Stiles gives him before going back under the covers. Peter watches as Stiles rearranges the covers and pillows to make his nest, Peter knows he’ll have to get some extra blankets or go without for the night. 

……

“Why does he need to stay with Peter?” Derek demands, again. 

Parrish would feel a twinge of sympathy for Derek and his drama if as Laura hadn’t just pointed out, how there is a good chance that Derek already made some large and easily avoidable mistakes with the second chance he was given. 

“I mean, it can’t be that hard to teach someone how to shift.” Laura tells him, as they all ignore Cora who is looking mournfully at the nest, thinking that the gift they made will not be acceptable anymore. “We can shift.” 

“He’s different than us.” Parrish reminds. “Even smells different, he might not be able to shift.”

Derek growls, but is ignored.

Laura sighs, “He can’t be that different, I mean it’s still Void right? So maybe he just has to learn to shift differently than us”

Parrish frowns, “Maybe.” 

Laura nods, “Uncle Peter would know.”

Derek growls again, irritated that his mate is being spoken about as if Derek is not even in the room. If anyone knows what is best for Void it would be him. 

“He should be in my room.” Derek hisses. “I can take care of him.”

Parrish doesn’t bother to hide the satisfaction that it gives him to know Derek is being ignored, or that Laura is looking at her brother like he is an idiot. Parrish and Laura understand why Peter might be the one responsible for Void, Peter has always had a knack for the more unconventional parts of the supernatural world. If Void had forgotten everything than there is a chance that he also forgot his magic. 

While Voids magic had just been little magic tricks, nothing like the ones Parrish had seen from allies that wanted to show off their skills to impress the alpha, Voids small tricks could still be dangerous. While Parrish hadn’t been part of the hunt, he remembers what Laura had told him, how Void had changed the paths. It was possible that Void could accidentally do something and who better than Peter to be the one to watch him. 

“Can he still use magic?” Laura asks her brother. 

Derek blinks, they all can tell that he is thinking about that answer but again is struggling with realizing that he needs to voice it aloud to them as well. 

“Yes.” He tells them finally. “It’s why we came back early.” 

Laura and Parrish stare and wait for him to continue, Cora mournfully fluffs one of the pillows on Voids nest. 

…..later that night…..

It had taken him awhile to finally fall asleep, so the sudden tugging on his toes had him a little irritated.   
His shadow was crouched over his legs, watching as Stiles was rubbing his eyes while he smiled weakly in greeting. It was whispering to him that it wanted to go exploring, there was so much more to see and people that it wanted to meet. Stiles looked over his shoulder at his sleeping father. His shadow promised they would be back before anyone woke up. 

“No, I want water.” He mouths to his shadow, he felt thirsty and didn’t want to go exploring. All Stiles wanted to do was stay close to his father and Derek. 

His shadow wrapped itself around him, promising that it would keep him safe and there was nothing to fear as long as it was with him. Stiles ran his finger along the shadows arm, it felt like smoke and ice. Stiles frowned as his shadow untangled him from the cocoon of blankets. His shadow lifted him, carrying his weight easily; Stiles looked at his father who was still asleep. 

His shadow sensing the hesitation promised they were only getting water. Later they would explore, it carried him silently down the hallway, passed the stairs that lead to the upper floors and into the dark kitchen, promising that everything was fine, when stiles clung a little tighter as they walked in dark he was not yet used to.

When they reached the kitchen his shadow placed him carefully on the ground before it started opened and closing the cabinet doors looking for the glasses. When his shadow finally found the glasses, the shadow like Stiles froze when they heard a door open. His shadow was surprised, they could hear someone walking towards them, Stiles looked at his shadow. No one stayed awake when his shadow wanted them to sleep, this time someone had. His shadow whispered for him to be still and quiet, it would keep him safe; no one not even a hound would take Stiles from him. 

Stiles nodded, mouthing for the shadow to be careful and that grandmother had promised it was going to be okay. His shadow blended into the darkness as Stiles waited by the sink. 

…… 

Parrish had a habit of listening to music while he slept, if he didn’t he found himself waking to the slightest noise in the house. Despite his precaution the sound of loud buzzing woke him; it seemed to be getting louder and closer, soon it was in the hallway. He opened his eyes the digital alarm clock showed the time was barely past 3am. 

He doesn’t turn off his iPod or remove the ear buds as he listens to the buzzing as it fades away. He’s never heard anything like this before, but he recognizes a scent, it’s faint but there. Part of him doesn’t want to move from his bed or leave the safety of his room, but a part of him reminds him that a pack member is out there and no doubt like him scared. As he follows the noise to the kitchen, one he has made several times before, but this time he knows there is something to fear in the dark. 

Aside from the music playing in his ear buds, and the fading buzz, the house is to quiet. 

The dark seems darker and it appears to be spreading, almost reaching for him. 

The fear he feels continues to grow but that doesn’t stop him from entering the kitchen. 

Parrish’s eyes glow bright red, giving him the slightest edge in the dark. He can feel himself shift as he panics, feeling the need to call out for his pack. Once he enters the kitchen the first thing he does is turn on the kitchen light, it flickers for a few moments before finally turning on. 

Standing on his tippy toes in the dark reaching for a glass is Void. 

Parrish chooses to help, getting a glass and filling it with water for him. 

“You can turn on the lights.” Parrish informs Void as he walks over to him and grabs one of the glasses Cora uses for Void. The fox smiles pleasantly and offers a whispered thank you before drinking. “Or ask someone to walk you down.” Parrish adds.

“I didn’t want to wake dad.” Void mumbles into the cup he is still drinking from. 

Parrish nods; he knows that Void is speaking about Peter. “I don’t think he would mind.” He tells Void. “I think he would be upset if something happened to you.” Void holds out his empty glass to Parrish, and points to the sink; Parrish refills the glass and gets a drink for himself as well. He has a feeling Void will continue to do this for awhile. After the third refill and a satisfied noise from Void, he hands Parrish the glass to places on the counter besides his. 

“Do you want another one?” Parrish asks. 

Void shakes his head and looks curiously at the ear buds Parrish is still wearing. Parrish can still hear the faint sound of buzzing over his music. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you back.” Parrish tells Void as he offers him his hand to hold. 

Void nods and takes the offered hand; once he does the kitchen light begins to flicker again. Parrish can hear the sound of buzzing growing louder; he looks in the direction of the noise. He can make something out in between the flickering of the lights; it’s a shadow figure standing just outside the kitchen. The shadow figure seems to be growing, almost touching the ceiling in the hallways, almost 10 feet. 

Parrish snarls baring his elongating fangs as he pulls Void behind him, his instincts demand he protect the younger member of the pack. The figure moves, between the flickering into the kitchen, Parrish roars almost missing the whispered, “Don’t.” from Void. After Void speaks the light stops flickering, the buzzing stops and the eerie stillness is gone. 

“Daddy.” Void suddenly whispers sounding much younger than he looks. 

Parrish can hear the quick rustling of blankets and heavy fast paced feet running towards them over the music he is still listening to. Peter rushes into the kitchen, looking frantic before he calms down at the sight of Void. 

“Stiles.” Peter whispers as he carefully lifts Void into what seems to be still shaking arms. “Thank you Parrish, but I have him.” Peter tells him, Parrish nods but hesitates to leave. He doesn’t want to go into the hallway, not when that thing was there, could still be there. 

“What did you see?” Peter asks softly. 

Parrish opens his mouth to answer but doesn’t know how to say it without sounding crazy. “I don’t know, it was like a shadow of some kind. It was big and it sounded like a bug.” 

Void yawns either oblivious to the change of emotion in the room or just tired. “Can we go back to sleep?” 

Peter smiles at him, “Of course, let’s just walk Parrish back first.” 

Void lets out another yawn, by the time they make it to Parrish’s room, Void is asleep.

Softly Peter asks if Void saw it too, Parrish nods and mentions how Void had made it go away. 

…..morning….

Parrish couldn’t go back to sleep, he had tried but every time he closed his eyes or tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the darkness in his room, all he saw was the shadow figure. The shadow figure that continued to grow till it surrounded him. Parrish turned on every light in his room, turned on his laptop and started searching for anything he could find about the shadow figures. 

He spent the rest of the night and early morning looking for anything that was similar to what he saw.

He had found similar stories, how the shadows could grow seemed to be intelligent but there was nothing about the lights flickering or the buzzing sound. 

At first he wondered if one of the shadows from the Inn had followed Void home. He had heard about something like that happening before, attachments forming but then Peter wouldn’t have been so scared. Derek made it sound like Voids magic was the reason, but Parrish had seen Peter laugh at druids and witches, magic wasn’t the concern. It was the binding, something had gone wrong, it was more than memory loss. 

The alpha wanted them to leave Peter and Void alone, the shadow figure was attached to Void. 

Parrish had never actually seen a binding ritual before but he knew the process. 

The body would be cleaned out, organs removed and the skin pealed back and tattooed before it was magically sown back on. If he were to skin Void, there would be tattoos of symbols, charms and wards, all meant to protect the one who would wear the skin. Bones that had been broken were fixed and carved with protection spells so they would be close to unbreakable and heal quickly. After that the body was covered in oils and the insides padded with herbs all to purifying and remove any trace of what was left of the human soul that once inhabited it. 

He had imagined that was what had been done to Paige. He had overheard his father telling the alpha that the body wouldn’t burn, continued to heal itself, and how the ghoul who was the forensic pathologist had been terrified when she attempted to autopsy the body and it had closed itself up. Only Void hadn’t wanted that body so a new one had been provided, it had been a rushed job.

“Parrish breakfast!” Laura yelled. 

“Coming!!” Parrish yelled back.

…..

Noshiko had never imagined that the shifter she had spent years with would one day live in a gated community. The shifter she knew had been a warrior, a fighter, killer and protector. Living in a gated community that boasted about its oceanic views, costal cliffs and ancient lighthouse was not where she had imagined finding Satomi. Then again, Noshiko had never imagined she would be on the PTA, have a family and decide to be a stay at home mother. Life had surprised them both. 

Ringing the doorbell Noshiko waits. 

Inside the house, Satomi is a little blindsided by the doorbell. She had just finished getting her youngest grandchild into clean clothes while at the same time was lecturing her eldest grandchild. Lorilee runs at the sound of the doorbell, and her brother Brett is running after her. Satomi doubts it is due to her lecture at the reasonability’s expected of the oldest. Satomi would question her life choices if she didn’t enjoy being a grandparent as much as she did. 

Walking at a much calmer pace than her grandchildren she heads to the front door, a little taken back by the scent that drifts into the house, it is one that she had not smelt in years. 

“It’s the lady from the pictures!!” Lorilee screams. 

When Satomi and Noshiko look at each other for a moment they are no longer in the present, they are back at that day, when what had been their strange pack had broken and both went their separate ways. 

“Are you really a Kitsune?” Lorilee asks, “Do you shift like us?”

“Brett, why don’t you and Lorilee pull out some cake and prepare some tea for our guest.” Satomi says in a tone that goes over her youngest grandchild’s head, Brett only nods. 

Noshiko understands the wary and calculating look the one called Brett gives her, it makes her feel a little more at ease knowing that Satomi has not truly changed. 

When they are alone in the entrance way Noshiko confesses what brought her here, “Someone freed the Nogitsune.” 

Satomi's eyes widen just a fraction before her face falls into the mask of calm indifference before she ushers Noshiko in and closes the door behind them.

……

Derek and Parrish were not the best of friends; they weren’t even close being to far apart in the personality spectrum to really get along, so it was surprising when Parrish scooted his chair closer to a brooding Hale. Parrish ignored the looks of surprise on everyone faces as he attempted to speak to Derek in a low whisper. 

“Did you bring back one of the shadows from the Inn?” Parrish asks. 

Derek stared at Parrish, “no.”

Parrish didn’t look relieved at that answer, his heart beat picking up instead. 

“Did anything weird ever happen at night when Void was around.” Parrish asked. 

Derek stared at him, his eyebrows rising and his lips thinning into a scowl. 

“Why?” Derek asked. 

“Last night there was something in the hallway.” Parrish told him, his heartbeat rising. 

Parrish knew the moment Derek understood what he was talking about. It strangely made Parrish feel a little relieved, because if it happened to someone else than he wasn’t crazy. 

“Parrish” Talia called, her voice causing the boy to stop talking and returned to eating what was on his plate. “If there had been something here, we would have sensed it.” she assured the young beta.  
Derek frowned at his mother’s reassurance, he had only woken up that one time, and Peter hadn’t. He looked at Parrish who was watching him out of the corner of his eye; he would need to ask what Parrish had seen. 

…………

Peter was studying Stiles; the boy was watching something on the portable DVD player that had been dropped off by James in the early morning. A must have, James had called it. Stiles was entranced, his mouth slightly open as he watched the brightly colored superhero’s fight some monster. James had praised the movie, saying it was a must have for any child’s DVD collection; Peter didn’t feel it was appropriate but he trusted his brother-in-law. 

Stiles had slept through the night, seemingly undisturbed by whatever it was that Parrish had seen, and Stiles had spoken to. Peter thought of the shadow, the thing he drew that greedily wanted the child for himself, not as a host but an equal an heir. Peter placed both of his hands in a prayer that covered his mouth. 

“Why did he have to die?” Stiles suddenly asked not looking away from the screen as the strange looking warrior sacrificed himself for its charge to live. 

Peter blinked, taken by surprise at the question. “What?” Peter asked. 

Stiles frowned, “Why did he have to die?” 

Peter shifted in his seat to stare at the screen, watching as the boy and some woman in a space pod were suddenly on the other side of some portal. Stiles was staring at him looking expectantly at him. 

“Sometimes, when you love someone you do whatever it takes to make sure that someone will be safe.” Peter tried to explain, but at the curious look on Stiles face he concluded it might not have been satisfactory. Stiles frowned and looked back at the screen, watching it like it held some type of answer to the universe. 

Peter looked at the other DVDs James had loaned them, before turning on his computer and searching for Pokémon and Power Ranger episodes, because for a brief moment he had forgotten Stiles was smarter than he sometimes appeared to be. As he was looking for the episodes, Peter missed the slightest of shifts in Stiles shadow, almost like it was caressing Stiles ankle. 

…………. 

In the sitting room Satomi served tea and cake, her grandchildren were curious about the newcomer, having only seen her in pictures from before their grandmother was their grandmother. Satomi promised them time to speak with Noshiko, but there were matters to attend to first. 

Satomi and Noshiko sat across from each other. 

They had met in Japan ages ago as children, an omega and a fox meeting on accident as they roamed around trying to be unnoticed by those around them. For so long they had been together as an odd pack but it worked for them, until it didn’t. 

“Time has been kind to you.” Satomi acknowledges. 

“You were never one for lying, I look older than I should, and children age you.” Noshiko reprimanded, “But they are worth the costs.” At the curious look on her old pack mate’s face, Noshiko continues. “I have a daughter now.” Noshiko informed Satomi. “I understand the need to protect ones family.” 

“I adopted other omegas, some human and others like us, I was not seen as their alpha but mother and their children soon saw me as their grandmother.” Satomi informs her friend as they catch each other up on the changes of their lives. 

There silence that followed was surprisingly not uncomfortable; both knew the subject they needed to discuss was what would cause them to be uncomfortable. 

“It was sealed away.” Satomi began. 

“Someone released it.” Noshiko informed her old pack mate. 

“Where is it now?” Satomi questioned feeling the unease grow in her stomach. 

“Somewhere in Beacon Hills, I can feel it growing stronger.” Noshiko stated. 

The cup in Satomi’s hand broke as the shifters hand clenched.

……

Peter had left the room to bring them some snacks, and probably glower at his brother-in-law for the hero something movie, but left believing the show on the laptop screen would keep Stiles occupied. Stiles hadn’t been alone for long before his shadow decided that it wanted to explore the room. 

“You scared him.” Stiles mouths. 

His shadow moves quickly towards him engulfing him, whispering to him that this place is not safe. 

The shadow whispers warnings to its pack mate, but knows the kit is too young to understand what is happening or what it all means, but the shadow knows the ones who had locked it away are close, aware like it is of their presence. It is close to slipping through the cracks of its prison, now it is weak and that weakness is something that it cannot afford. 

They will need to leave soon; once it is strong enough they will.

“I’ll protect you.” Stiles promises. 

The shadow tightens its hold on the kit; it knows the kit means those words and would try so hard to keep them. It promises to be good, knowing when it is stronger, when it not using so much of its magic to keep the dreamer awake, it and the kit will leave. 

….


	5. A Passed Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History repeats itself when no one learns, but it seems that heavier prices are paid the second time around.

“There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”  
― Sarah , The Truth About Forever

Chapter 5: A Passed Note  
……..

During breakfast Parrish, after being reassured by the alpha, he kept his questions and comments to himself. He had the confirmation he needed. Derek might not have told him verbally but the look of understanding on his face made it clear that Derek knew exactly what Parrish was talking about. 

Derek might have even seen it to. 

Voids ability to use magic was the reason they came back earlier. Meaning, Voids magic was stronger than it had been before. Whatever Parrish had seen in the kitchen was attached to Void. Void could have summoned it, or accidentally created it. Leaving Peter to be the one responsible for making whatever it was go away. 

Once breakfast was over he was going back to his room and to his computer he would find something. 

He had to, because that thing would be back tonight. 

…some years ago in Japan….

Chris Argent usually went on hunts with his sister, sometimes he hunted with his father and on the rare occasion he hunted with both.

He always hated the hunts with both his sister and father. He hated them as a child and he continued to hate them as an adult. What he really wanted was to hunt on his own. He rarely hunted on his own, that was a matter that he found personally to be demeaning. But on the rare occasion that he was given that chance to hunt on his own he took it. 

One of those rare chances came when Liam called. 

Chris had worked with Liam on a case in Egypt, it hadn’t ended well but they had kept in touch. Chris agreed to meet the archaeologist at his current dig site, and did not suddenly pack his bags in the middle of the night and sneak out to some rural area in Japan. 

When he arrived to the dig site he found a makeshift camp set as far away from the original dig site as it could get. 

“Chris.” Liam shouted as he ambled towards the lone hunter, upon reaching the lone hunter Liam pulled him into an awkwardly tight and inappropriate hug of relief. “Thank god you came.” Liam mumbled into the side of Chris’s face. 

“This is not another Egypt is it?” Chris asked ignoring how Liam was still clinging to him. If it was another Egypt he would need to call his sister, and Kate had already sworn she was willing and able to kill Liam on sight if that happened. 

“No, I don’t think so, maybe.” Liam mumbled in response. 

Chris patted him awkwardly on the back while Hayden approached them. 

“We found a temple; some parts of it had been sealed off. We unsealed those and we found her.” Hayden informed him, looking as sleep deprived and shaken as her husband who was still clinging to Chris. 

“Her?” Chris asked. 

Liam finally released him, “The part we unsealed, it was almost set up like a house. We found a bedroom, living areas, and two storage rooms with wines, water and scarily well preserved dried out meats and fruit. Then there was that room, and that was where we found her.” Liam begins to explain the fatigue from lack of sleep and fear induced paranoia showing in his words, expressions and body language, “We thought it was a doll, but it turned out to be a body. A very scarily way to well persevered body and then there’s the shadow figure.” Liam paused looking at the other members of the team that were looking just as worn out as Liam, “We came across the shadow figure first but once we took her out of the room, it started to break things, hurt people.”

“Let me see her.” Chris ordered. 

Liam motioned towards the temple, even from this distance Chris could feel the wards that were strung around that area and smell the ash that was surrounding the temple. 

“A woman from the village did this for us, she told us we didn’t know what we were dealing with.” Hayden informed him, she had been there in Egypt she understood that warnings where there for a reason. “It can’t cross the ash or the wards.” Hayden informed him as she pointed at the ashes and wards strung around the temple. 

Chris followed as they entered the temple, taking notice of the cameras set up, the over turned work areas as they walked towards the entrance that had once been sealed off. Then he noticed her. Only one of the work areas had been untouched by the destruction, the reason was laying on the metal table under a slightly dirty white sheet. 

He had heard stories about the unfortunate like her, the brides. Those who had gained the affections of the monsters, damned souls, nothing could be done for them. They didn’t even have the option of death. 

“Who was this temple built for?” he asked. 

Liam looked apologetic as he spoke, “We don’t really know.” 

Hayden and Liam stayed back as he moved closer to the body on the table, he lowered the sheet to her shoulders, aside from the color of her eyes, she still looked alive. He was able to turn her head easily; there were no signs of rigamortis. Her skin was still soft. He leaned in; she smelled like flowers, plants, spring and something else, he couldn’t place it. Surprisingly she still smelled human, no decay lingered on her skin he could understand why someone would think she was a doll. 

“Aside from moving the body was anything else done?” Chris questioned feeling the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. 

“ Mason he, when we found her she was wrapped in silks, like a fragile package. Underneath those she was wearing traditional wedding clothes. Corey helped remove the jewelry, clothes and undo her hair we needed to catalog it and when we accidentally cut her …” Liam’s voice faded as his breathing quickened. 

Chris looked in the direction that Liam was staring horrified in, at the very edge of the smudged ash barrier the shadow figure stood. Chris could hear it, the others couldn’t, the warning roar in his direction. The shadow knew what he was, and Chris knew what this looked like. There was an Argent standing over the bare body of the shadows bride, the bride that the shadow could not go near because of the ash barrier. 

“Liam, run.” Chris hissed under his breath as he reached for his gun. 

Liam and Hayden didn’t need to be told twice, they ran faster than they ever believed their own legs could take them.

………..now…..

After breakfast Parrish rushed back to his room and to his computer. When he returned to his research it seemed hopeless, there was nothing that matched up close enough to what he had seen. Until he came across the anonymous post someone placed on some old and forgotten forum board. The story the anonymous poster shared had working links to video files and pictures that spanned the three months this “haunting” had taken place at an archaeological dig site in Japan. 

After an earthquake in some forgotten rural region of Japan, a temple that had been previously buried in a landslide was rediscovered. The locals had shared their stories of the temple in warning to the team of archaeologist that were to excavate the temple. All had shared the same warning, the temple needed to remain sealed. 

While the archaeologists respected the traditions and superstition of others, history needed to be recorded.

Two of the members had been on digs where something had happened; they had been the first to find anyone in the village that could help them when the activity started. The others never had anything happen to them before, they ignored the beginning signs of activity, and did nothing. For those members of the team nothing had ever happened before, why would it suddenly happen now, and in the beginning nothing did. 

That changed when they reached the sealed off area of the temple. 

Two of the archaeologist decided to drill a hole so they could see what was on the other side of the wood and rock barricade. Once the hole was big enough they used a small remote controlled camera to check the area. From what they were able to see the area that had been sealed off, was open and untouched. 

With some careful deliberation the barricade was removed, that very night things started to happen.  


The next morning the stories started. 

The night crew had spoken about how the lights and electronics would flicker just before they would hear someone screaming. Two of the crew spoke about having nightmares, but all of them heard the sound of insects buzzing and had seen the shadow figure. They joked about it, blaming it on nerves and superstition. Two of the members left for the village, the rest continued with the cataloging and excavating of what they found. 

When they found her, everything became terrifying.  


Parrish clicked on the link to see the photos taken of and in the temple. What caught his attention was the room with the symbols and the charmed box. Parrish downloaded that image and opened it in one of the picture viewers he zoomed in and paid close attention to the symbols. Regardless of the time and language that separated them, he knew this what not a burial chamber. This was an altar and in it was the sacrifice, trapped in a death like sleep. He clicked on another link; this one had pictures of the box, and what was kept inside. 

He downloaded those as well before he clicked back to the post. 

Inside was a young woman, maybe in her early twenties carefully wrapped in silks and dressed in a wedding kimono. She appeared more like a terrifying realistic life size doll. 

Everyone on the team had some theory about what the room and doll meant. Some believed that the doll was meant to appease the shadow figure, another believed this was just meant to be a representation of someone the temple was meant to worship, or had worshiped. Both based their theory on the room they labeled the master bedroom and what was inside it. They found more unbelievably well preserved clothes in the room, for the different seasons, occasions and there were accessories. Everything was for her, she was the main focus. 

One made the comment that they should videotape what was happening to be sure that they had proof of what they were seeing and experiencing. So they set up cameras to record all day and night in almost all the rooms of the temple, but they focused on the recently unsealed rooms and hallway. 

Parrish clicked on another link, this one was to what had been caught on film from the go pros cameras and some had audio. There was a warning on some of the links, letting the viewer know that the content was not for the weak of heart. Ignoring that Parrish clicked on the first link, this one was of the hallway. He watched the edited down version, all 20 minutes of it. He could see it walking the hallway, going from room to room. He watches as the shadow follows the same path, the routine of a normal day, starting from the dolls room and ending at the dolls room. He can hear the faint buzzing, notices the second shadow, a smaller one beside the larger shadow figure. The shadow figure leads it, always slightly overbearing, protective of the smaller one. He reads the notes to the video; the second shadow only appeared when no one else was there. 

He clicks on another link, one with a warning attached to it, this one is of the dolls room. He watches the flickering screen, sees the shadow figure remove the lid of the box, and hears the sounds of cloth being shifted before the shadow enters the box. The box closes on its own, he watches for less than a minute, once the boxes starts shifting in a way that Parrish hopes does not mean what he thinks is happening. He goes back to the post and tells himself he will not go back to the videos with warnings. 

Once the team of archaeologists removed the doll and the box so they could examine it, the shadow figure became violent. After that night, one of the archaeologists contacted an old friend who was able to help them. They returned, reluctantly the doll and everything else they found, redid the seal with some help and reburied the temple. 

Parrish stared at the screen, before opening a new tab and looking up anything he could on that temple in Japan. It had taken him almost an hour before he found a small article, more like a ghost story. 

The temple had been built for a certain type of Kitsune. One had returned to the temple and had taken an interest in one of the children that played in what they had believed to be ruins. The child had been kept in the temple, to ensure the Kitsune was not angered. When the child had reached a certain age, she had been entombed body and soul with the Kitsune and the temple sealed. 

Parish could feel a tension headache building, he didn’t want whatever he had seen to return. He knew there were different types of foxes, Void was Finnish. He wanted to talk to Peter because he didn’t know what was happening. Yet, at the same time he dreaded going to talk to Peter.

…………..

Laura always knew her brother was an idiot. 

Unlike her parents she never held onto the belief that one day Derek would stop being an idiot. She knew the very moment Derek glared at the outlet that he had put a penny in,that his level of intelligence was far below average. She had hoped his mate would be a freaking genius to make up the difference. 

But Void was only above average in dramatics.

Leaving her as the only hope her idiot brother had. 

She hadn’t missed the conversation at breakfast between Parrish and Derek about noticing anything strange. From the look on her brother’s face, he knew what Parrish was talking about. Her mother might say differently but Laura knew there was something going on and since she was going to be the alpha one day, this meant she needed to be told whatever Parrish and Derek already knew. 

Her first stop would be her brother. She knew exactly where to find him, lurking in a dark corner staring at Uncle Peter’s bedroom door

“No one likes a creepier.” Laura reminds her brother who doesn’t have the decency to look ashamed at being caught. 

“Why does he need to be with Peter? Stiles is my mate.” Derek asked, sounding irritated that he was not getting his way. 

Deciding to ignore her brothers one track mind, she changed the topic, “What scared you and Parrish?” she asked. 

Derek scowled at the door but avoided looking at her, Laura understood she could read her brother like a children’s book. She decided to word her question differently, taking a slight risk about who she would be implying was the culprit. 

“What is Void able to do?” Laura asked. 

“I think he can teleport.” Derek says far too calmly. 

Laura stares at the door to Uncles Peters room. She can hear an episode of Pokémon playing, Peter sighing and Void asking if he could have the Pokémon called Vulpix. 

“He can teleport.” She repeats, “Anything else?”

“He can sometimes be untraceable to our senses.” Derek adds, his attention remaining on the door to their uncle’s room.

Laura doesn’t know what to say, all she can think is of course. Void is Derek’s mate so why would he make anything easy. 

“Anything else?” she asks. 

Her brother only shrugs. Laura takes that as a sign that he doesn’t know what else Void is capable of. 

“What did Parrish see?” Laura asks. 

“He didn’t say.” Derek answers. 

Behind the door that Laura and Derek were staring at, regardless of what his niece and nephew believe Peter can hear them. But they are one of his lesser worries, aside from the bed where Stiles is bouncing on his knees in excitement; Peter’s room is a mess. It resembles his study in Oak Creek, there are notebooks and art supplies are on the floor, crumbled newsprint overflows from the trashcan. 

Peter has already ordered new furniture, thanks to his mother, along with some fur lined blankets and pellets all will be delivered at the end of the business day. Stiles has already selected clothes that are currently being purchased for him, along with the new identity for Stiles being put together , by the end of this week Stiles will be ready to see Beacon Hills. These are things that he should be pleased about, but all he can focus on is the shadow figure. It is here in the house with them, he doesn’t know how or even if Stiles is really aware of it. Peter throws another notebook on the floor as he searches for something, some magical answer to his problem. 

On the bed seemingly unaware of Peter’s internal freak out, Stiles drinks the soda the alphas mate sent to him and watches the laptop screen. 

“Can I have one?” Stiles asks bouncing on his knees as he watches the Vulpix dashing across the computer screen.

Peter is well aware that Stiles has seen this episode 4 times. His son adores the Vulpix on the screen, Peter has to wonder if one day Stiles might accidentally conjure up one. 

“Can I have one?” Stiles repeats, all but shrieking as he watches the Vulpix on the screen. “He’s so cute, can we find one, do you think Derek can find me one, I want one.” 

Peter watches as Stiles bounces on his knees with all the empty coke cans that litter the bed. 

Peter mentally curses his brother-in-law. Peter monitored everything Stiles ate and drank, here it seemed everyone especially James was more than willing to go against Peters wishes in regards to what his child ate and drank. While he did learn that Stiles might have an issue with sugar, since his already shortened attention span was now set on obsessive overdrive, especially when finishing entire cans of coke in one go. 

The Vulpix is back on the screen, when it speaks to its trainer Stiles shrieks again. “Oh my god!!” Stiles bounces off the bed in a move that has Peter diving to catch him, unafraid and uncaring Stiles only clings to him and begs, “Daddy please, can I have one??!!!” 

“I will look into getting you one.” Peter finds himself agreeing as he carefully places Stiles back on the bed and away from the hazard the floor of his room has become. Stiles shrieks in joy before clamoring back to his spot on the bed to continue watching the animated creature. 

Elsewhere in the house Talia is enjoying listening to Voids shrieking. Her husband is already online looking for a Vulpix stuff animal and anything Vulpix related. There are times when she imagines how different life would have been if Malia had lived, if her brother had never fallen for that woman. She smiles as she hears her brother agreeing to Stiles pleas. 

“Void might have an issue with sugar and caffeine.” James informs her. 

Talia smiles, “I’m not surprised, have you seen the list Peter gave mom for Voids diet.” 

James had not seen the list and unlike his wife who can with a glance can read her brothers mental and emotional state, he needs the subtitled edition. 

“Was it as bad as yours for Laura?” James asks.

Talia gives him a glare, but it does nothing, her brothers list put her micromanaging of everything and every second of Laura’s life to shame. James smiles, it’s the same smile her children inherited for when they have something planned, or feel they did something and got away with it. 

“I’m thinking an Oreo, chocolate chip cookies, and fudge brownie sundae, I think Void will like that.” Talia smiles at her husband, he and Cora have been determined to win Void over with sweets. “Cora is already crushing the cookies.” James adds happily. 

Talia smirks, “With some soda to wash it down?”

James smiled widely.

……………..

Meredith has a specific computer towards the back of the library that she always uses. From that computer she can see almost everything and everyone, including the new historian, in the library. 

Meredith knows it sounds crazy, that she sounds crazy, but she’s not crazy. Once she thought she was crazy, because only a crazy person hears voices in their head. One of the voices in her head told her, she knows who the new historian really is. Meredith knows Kate Argent is dangerous and where an Argent goes death follows. 

Meredith knows that she is not crazy; one of the voices explained it to her. What she hears are echoes, they give her information, offer her ways of protection towards things that she didn’t think existed, things she now wishes never existed. One of the voices, the first voice, has been here for a long time; it tried to warn people before too and was killed for it. She continues that voices work with her website dedicated to the supernatural happenings of Beacon Hills. 

One of those happenings is walking into the library. 

Meredith raises the volume on her IPod; the cello concert drowns out the buzzing of the flies.

……….

John Stilinski has no problem waiting in the library’s parking lot for his wife. He finally had her agreeing to and attending the grief counseling group with Doctor Valack, it was highly recommended by one of his colleges. Claudia had reluctantly agreed on the accord that Gemin wanted her to, John didn’t argue. He had asked if she wanted him to go with her, she declined. 

Leaving him alone in the car for an hour, he wisely took this as an opportunity to look over his notes. 

He focused on the copies he made of Barrows journal. Barrow had written that in learning the truth he realized how much crueler the world he lived in was. John knew Barrow had a point. Martha straight out stated that Paige knew about the monsters, and those monsters killed her. No one could stop them. They would take whatever and whoever they wanted and no one cared. 

John held off on the monster theory. He first entertained the idea of a cult who never got the memo that human sacrifices were not only out dated but illegal. His second was a serial killer who had groomed others to continue or some version of a copy cat. 

Barrow wrote about the same things that were still happening, the missing people, murders that were covered up as suicides and the animal attacks. 

Before Barrow had found the lone survivor from the animal attacks, he had written about a young woman from the town that suddenly vanished. At first Barrow had suspected nothing, he paid no attention to the whispers about her gaining the attention of someone who lived in the preserve. To him it was wives tales, he had traded with the Hales before, strange but he had seen mountain folk before, some people were just different. Then he came across the campsite, everything had been destroyed, bodies were slashed almost unidentifiable but Barrow had found a survivor. That survivor taught him many things, including how to identify who the monsters were by their eyes, the ones in town had yellow, blue and very rarely red. The ones that lived in the preserve always had red eyes, those where the really dangerous ones, they protected Beacon Hills. 

John wanted to go back into the preserve, see where they found Paige’s body, he had a feeling this was all connected in some way, and all he needed to do was look at things differently.

But he needed to focus on Claudia first. 

His mother in law had called him worried how Claudia had stopped calling and answering her phone calls. He knew Claudia spent most of her days and night sleeping. But she still functioned, at least from what he had seen. John had lost Gemin, he couldn’t and he wouldn’t lose Claudia too. 

………..

Doctor Gabriel Valack enjoyed his group counseling sessions that met twice a week at the library, he would publicly claim that it was to give back to the community but privately he just enjoyed watching his patients unravel. He listened to the grieving parents, the mournful and lost friends and family members speak about their grief for their loves ones. Their loved ones who were lost to disappearances, suicides or that one mass murder and for some he knew the truth. 

But today his attention was on the silent and hidden voyeur that was listening in on the session. 

The voyeur always stays just outside of his sight, he at first imagined she was curious, he now believes there is something more to her eavesdropping. 

In the hallway Kate listens in, to anyone else she is updating the bulletin board, adding on new flyers, important notices and removed anything outdated. Her bracelet warns her there is something here, its weak, nothing for her to get too worried about. She believes it might be the newest member, to the support group. Kate recognizes Claudia Stilinski, their father might have wanted to keep the reason he sent them here a secret but their father had always been an open book to her. That and she has never been one to let a lock stand in her way of information. 

Some member of a coven had approached Gerald, and presented Gerald with a file on the human daughter, son-in-law and the grandchild of one of their members. The grandchild was special, powerful, the coven leader wanted the grandchild returned and if found dead, he wanted those that had done it to pay. This was more than a simple reconnaissance mission; this was the beginning of an alliance. She kept her focus on Claudia Stilinski. 

In the group meeting one of the members was speaking about his daughter who had foreseen her own death. 

“I still pay her cell phone bill, just so I can hear her voice again.” He admits. 

Several parents nod their heads in agreement to this statement. 

“She was just special, a dreamer you know, lived in her own world, still believed in mermaids.” He admits with a sad laugh, “Growing up she used to tell us that a mermaid had fallen in love with her, she was so excited. Like any little girl she had her wedding all planned, as she got older that changed, a few months before she vanished she told us that she didn’t want to be with the mermaid anymore. We figured it was her way of saying she was growing up.” He paused as he caught his breath, “In her diary she wrote that the mermaid wouldn’t take no for an answer, the next time it saw her, it would take her and she would never see us again.” 

“The loss of a child no matter the age is difficult for anyone to understand, much less rationalize.” Dr. Valack reminds, “but life does continue, and time will heal the wounds.” Martha Matthews lets out a scoff of disbelief, Dr. Valack looks at her curiously, but she remains silent.

“They never found her body, Sara’s father swears something hit the boat and my little girl fell in to the water, then she was just gone.” He finishes, looking at Martha who looks away from him, she had gotten to bury her daughter, he never will.

Dr. Valack taps his pen on his notepad while the voyeur pins a new flyer to the bulletin board. 

“We are here to support one another.” Dr. Valack reminds looking directly at Martha.

“My daughter was murdered.” Martha reminds Dr. Valack. 

Dr. Valack wants to add something to Martha’s statement but his chance is taken by their newest member. 

“Gemin was always happy. He was always so curious, always getting into some type of trouble.” Claudia begins. “I dream about him.” 

“That’s not uncommon.” Dr. Valack responds, “Do you still blame yourself?” 

“I always will.” Claudia answers honestly. “But in my sleep he’s still here, just as he was.” 

“What do you do in your dreams?” Dr. Valack asks.

“My son and I, we play games, read books, we do what we always did together.” Claudia lets out a little laugh, “It’s getting harder to wake up.” 

Unknowingly Kate and Dr. Valack both take note of her response. 

“How is your husband dealing with the loss of your son?” Valack asks. 

“He’s thrown himself into his work.” Claudia answers. 

“My wife did the same.” One of the other patients in the group tells her. “It took years before either one of us could even look at each other without blaming the other.” 

“That brings up a good point, Claudia do you think John blames you?” Dr. Valack asks. 

“He says he doesn’t but I blame me.” She answers looking him straight in the eyes. 

“Where is he?” Dr. Valack asks taking note of the dark sports under her eyes, he clicks the pen as he maintains eye contact. 

“I asked him to stay in the car.” Claudia answers.

Dr. Valack nods, noticing how Martha is staring at Claudia. 

“Next time Claudia, ask him to join us.” Dr. Valack tells her. 

Claudia smiles at him in response, but he can see it in her eyes as he clicks his pen that there is something else in there. Something that is hiding from his sight, he wonders how much of Claudia is being eaten away. He smiles back at her, the pen now tapping on his notepad. 

“Or don’t, sometimes having a place that can be one’s own is part of the healing process.” Dr. Valack tells her. “Russell, is your son, Matthew, still trying to contact Alice?”Dr. Valack asks, returning focus back to the first sharer in group.

…………….

Many, many years ago when Satomi and Noshiko were young they had witnessed a Kitsune who had become tainted by desire, jealousy and obsession for a human be sealed away. Years later Noshiko had used that knowledge to seal the Nogitsune she had summoned from her own vengeful wrath away. 

Now the Nogitsune was back and they were duty bound to stop it. 

Satomi had been there when Noshiko had summoned the Nogitsune, had watched as it had possessed the corpse of Noshiko’s sweetheart and slaughtered everything in its path, it was uncontrollable and hungry. 

In the Nogitsune weakened state it had almost killed them. They had barely managed to seal it away then. This time it would be stronger. The Nogitsune needed a host and it would find one, preferably one that would be protected, untouchable. Which in Beacon Hills was anyone, the alpha even under lock down kept a tight leash on her territory. While Satomi lived here with her pack and had her own small territory it was still under the protection of the Hale Alpha, searching for the Nogitsune the way Noshiko wanted would lead to a bloody end. The Hales ended threats with vicious precision and a dramatic flair for making examples, Satomi would not risk her pack. 

“We will need to speak with the alpha.” Satomi reminded. “It would be best if I speak to her, I have had dealing with her before.” 

“It could be in anyone and infected others.” Noshiko reminded, preferring to not involve the pack of Beacon Hills. 

“You can sense it.” Satomi reminded. 

“I can sense the Nogitsune.” Noshiko reminded frowning, the unspoken but not its minions without my oni was heard. 

“We will remain here till the alpha agrees to meets with us.” Satomi stressed. “Tell me about Kira.” 

Noshiko smiled, “she is very different from me. Always happy, curious but she never strays from me or her father.” 

Satomi nodded her grandchildren were raised in a time of peace, she had taught them to fight but as a precaution. She watched her grandchildren play in the backyard. She could hear Brett telling his sisters the stories his father had heard about Noshiko, some were over dramatized. 

“They are nothing like us, I am grateful for that.” Satomi added. 

Noshiko let out a little laugh, “They have never known fear, hunger or been hunted. I plan to keep it that way for as long as I am able.”

……………

Meredith continues working on her website, the cello concert that plays skips and restarts. She looks away from the computer screen and at her iPod, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. She is about to return her attention to the computer screen when it skips again. She restarts her IPod; while her attention is elsewhere she misses the entrance of Natalie and Lydia Martin. 

Kate who is heading back to her office before the support group lets out notices the Martians enter. Kate is aware of the ties the Martians have to the Hale family. Their being here interferes with her plans; she wanted to speak to either Claudia or Martha before they left. But with the Martians’ here she doesn’t want them to notice her going out of her way to speak to either woman. 

When Natalie looks at her, Kate smiles sweetly and nicely, Natalie smiles back and leads her daughter to the children section of the library. 

Meredith hears the buzzing, her IPod is still restarting and there is nothing stopping her from hearing it. The sound is like a weight pressing down on her limps, making it harder to breathe, to think, to move. She can do nothing as the darkness surrounds her; the buzzing grows louder till the sound and the darkness surround her. The shadow takes shape next to her; she can see it out of the corner of her eye. She can see it reaching for her, feel the air vibrate around them as it does, before it can touch her, a sound breaks through. 

Her IPod is on max volume as “Flight of the Valarie’s” suddenly plays, the weight and the darkness are gone from her and she can move. Her hands go instinctively to remove the ear buds, when she does all she can hear is a screaming child. But she can hear something else in that scream, words, broken garbled words that mean something. Meredith looks for the hunter, sees her standing among scattered papers holding her hand looking embarrassed while Claudia has a hand on her shoulder to steady her. 

“She has a set of lungs on her.” Claudia jokes as Natalie tries to figure out what is wrong with Lydia. 

Kate laughs awkwardly, “I was taken by surprise.” she jokes. 

Claudia helps Kate pick up the scattered flyers on the floor, “That paper cut looks bad, you should get it taken care of before it gets infected.” Claudia mentions casually. Kate laughs slightly, looking at the paper cut, its right under the nail of her thumb. She smiles at Claudia ignoring the pinching feeling around the cut; this is her chance to open a line of communication. 

“I spoke to your husband was the information I gave him helpful?” Kate asks.

Claudia smiles, “I know he wanted to talk to you again.” 

Meredith returns to her work on her website trying to ignore how the buzzing has multiplied. 

……….

End Chapter 5


	6. Kisses Are Not Hugs

“Innocence is a kind of insanity”   
― Graham Greene, The Quiet American

Chapter 6: Kisses are not hugs  
…….

When Lorraine Martian was younger she had imagined her life turning out differently. 

When she reached her mid twenties and her “Families gift” skipped her, without that “gift “to keep her tied to Beacon Hills and under the alphas constant watch and protection, she was allowed certain important freedoms. 

The freedom to come and go as she pleased, and have more than the illusion of a normal life. 

So every summer Lorraine rented the same small cabin by the lake. She spent those summers lounging by the lake, painting and enjoying her summer romance. 

Her yearly summer romance was always Maddy. 

Maddy was an artist, a free spirit who lived pay check to pay check and wanted nothing more than to have lazy days of sleeping, painting and lounging by the lake shore. 

But what made Maddy perfect was her ignorance towards and disbelief of the supernatural. 

For years those summers had been perfect, till the morning Lorraine had her first vision.

She had tried warning Maddy, even explaining what a Banshee was and why Maddy needed to listen to her. Maddy had only laughed it off, and jokingly promised to be careful. 

Lorraine knew before the police arrived to inform her of Maddy death, that her summers by the lake were over. It wasn’t even three hours after she had been informed, that a member of the Hale pack arrived to escort her home. Lorraine was a banshee; she belonged in Beacon Hills, under the protection of the Hale alpha. 

Three years later she was married and a year after that she was expecting her first and only child.   
…………..

The Nogitsune hadn’t planned on taking the hunter; he had wanted the unclaimed banshee. But his plan had been interrupted by the banshee child; he would deal with her later. Though he would admit having the hunter was proving to be a better choice, the hunter would be more than another set of eyes and ears that he could use. The hunter was special, strong and healed, making the hunter a rechargeable power source for him. 

His unknowing host Claudia was strong, but he had expected nothing less from her. 

He had met her son, the witch that had given half of all that he was and could have been to create his kit; he would have been disappointed if she hadn’t been. Sadly she was soon coming to the end of her usefulness; she had nothing to heal her as he slowly drained the energy he needed. To the outside world she was simply giving up, to anyone with magical or supernatural knowledge she was casting a spell. 

His kit did not know of her and Claudia did not know of him, and would not. He already had the mother of Void to contend with, he didn’t need a coven of witches trying to take the magical offspring of Gemin and Void from him as well. 

Reluctantly he left Claudia and returned to the basement of the Inn to rest. 

The lanterns he has placed around the basement light at his presence. 

He would return to the Hales den to spend time with his kit, he would need to be cautious of the one his magic had not touched. The hound had been immune to his presence, had tried to keep his kit away from him. He disliked that hound greatly, and needed to be careful. 

He looked at the area he had designated as his kit play and sleep area. The furs had been cleaned, new toys; books and trinket were placed in the area. This was a temporary den for them; until he found them a better one, safer and far away. With the help of the hunter he might be able to do so sooner that he expected.   
…….

Katherine had just received confirmation that the furniture, the pellets and furs, and the clothing she had ordered was on its way. On a side note some stuffed animal called a Vulpix her son-in-law had wanted was going to be included with the delivery. 

While that had her curious, she was also curious about the request from Satomi to meet. 

Satomi and her pack kept to themselves. Their territory was small and consisted of a gated community and the surrounding area around it. Katherine had asked if there was something wrong, thinking there might be a problem that Satomi needed help in. The older alpha had informed her it was a simple matter about an old pack member needing a place to stay for awhile. Which knowing Satomi was probably an older shifter who wanted permission to retire in Beacon Hills and have someplace safe place for their grandchildren or family that would visit on occasion. Which Katherine didn’t mind as long as they followed her rules and contributed. 

So Katherine had agreed to meet, explaining that the house would be busy today but it was the best time before she became too busy planning her grandsons ceremony. Satomi had accepted and would be bringing her old pack mate with her. 

That was going to be one of the easiest parts of her day. 

Now she needed to check in on her youngest and see if he had been doing his part in preparing his current room.

Knowing her son, he probably has not. 

She came prepared for that. 

There was a private guest suite on the other side of the house, it was away from the other bedrooms, allowing privacy, considering the events that will and had been happening in the house, it was for the best. The furniture in the private guest suite just needed to be removed, cleaned out and donated. Which would all be done today and her youngest would be helping with that. 

Making her way to her youngest room, she can’t help but notice her grandchildren standing in the corner of the hallway staring at Peter’s door. 

Laura embarrassed at being caught staring takes one look at her brother, who doesn’t even bat an eye and decides this is the perfect opportunity to speak to Parrish. Her grandmother smiles at her, giving her a kiss on the forehead as she passes. 

“Stiles is asleep.” Derek informs her.

Katherine smiles at her grandson, giving him a kiss as well, he smiles at the affection. She is proud that her grandson has shown enough self control to not just barge into the room to make himself comfortable in a corner and lurk. 

“Let’s pay them a visit.” Katherine tells Derek as he nods and follows her closely. 

When she opens the door to the bedroom she is not that surprised to find a mess or her grandson passed out on the bed surrounded by empty soda cans, with his head and arms hanging off the edge of the bed. 

She was expecting something like this, and her son does not disappoint. 

Peter has emptied the bookcase, upended the cabinets and drawers he used for his journals, sketchbooks and supplies. She tries not to think of the supplies that are littered on the floor, some that have opened and are staining the floor. Making her grateful that she has hardwood floors, Peter seems oblivious to their arrival as he curses his books for being worthless. 

Katherine watches, silently amused, as Derek sneaks over to Stiles and carefully lifts and places Stiles in the middle of the bed by Stiles favorite pillow. Stiles mumbles in his sleep as he wiggles around till he is cuddling with his pillow. 

Hearing Stiles mumble alerts Peter that someone is in the room. He quickly moves into a crouch, eyes flashing and claws out ready to attack. When he realizes who is in his room he relaxes and looks embarrassed. 

“The movers are bringing the furniture in today.” Katherine firmly reminds her son. Peter stares at her, he looks at his mess and then Stiles on the empty soda can riddled bed. She imagines he’s thinking this is not the best impression of his ability to be a parent. “I am having them set up the furniture in the unoccupied in-law suite.” Katherine informs Peter keeping the annoyance in her voice to a bare minimum. 

“That would be the wisest decision.” He answered. Stiles lets out a mumbled response drawing their attention. “James gave him a case of soda, and he drank it.” Peter informs his mother before she could blame him. 

Katherine frowned, “This does not mean you have two rooms Peter, you are simply moving into a bigger one with Stiles.” Peter nods but she knows he is already thinking of how he can keep both rooms. Katherine sighs, “Just help James take the furniture out of the room, so the new ones can go in.” 

Peter sighs, “I will.” 

Katherine nods, looking at Derek who is stroking Stiles hair as he cuddles with his pillow. 

“Derek.” Katherine begins, getting her grandsons attention, “watch Stiles for Peter.”

“Do we have to stay in this room?” Derek asks his grandmother with his sweetest voice and widest puppy eyes. 

Peter raises an eyebrow in judgment towards Derek’s behavior, before voicing his opinion, “That won’t end well.”

Katherine ignores how Derek glares at his uncle while Peter smirks back in response. She trusts Derek to take care of Stiles and Peter will be busy helping James, “Be careful with him Derek.” 

Derek eagerly nods, feeling accomplished as he lifts Stiles who does not let go of his pillow, before walking out of the room. Pausing only once to smile at Peter smugly and then smile sweetly at his grandmother. 

Even before Derek is out of the doorway, Peter informs her again, “It really won’t end well.” 

Katherine sighs before saying her sons name in a very set tone that has him quickly leaving the room to do as she asks. She looks at the mess and sighs; this is looking to be a long day.   
……………………………

As John waits in the car for Claudia, he studies a rubbing of some kind on one of the pages from William Barrow’s journal. It seemed to be from a pendant of some kind, from what he knew from his in-laws, things like this had meaning. Depending on who the pendant belonged to it could have one or several meaning, but John would make the educated guess, this pendant belonged to the hunter. 

He had one, a necklace he still wore, for protection. His hand absently moved to cover where the pendant lay under his clothes. His mind wandered to his son, to Scott and to his wife. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by his phone vibrating in the drink holder. It’s a test message from his partner Donati. Rafael McCall is now being labeled a suspect and is being brought in for questioning. 

John stares at the message on his phone; one of his first thoughts is how Melissa is handling the news.

Melissa had cut all her ties with them and Beacon Hills. John couldn’t and wouldn’t hold her choices against her. He understood why she left Beacon Hills, Melissa told him that her door was open if he ever needed a place to stay when he couldn’t look or be near Claudia. 

John understood what Melissa meant but he didn’t blame Claudia. There was nothing she could have done, he had been the one that had called home and distracted her, giving whoever had taken the boys the chance to do so. He couldn’t blame her, not when he blamed himself. 

John notices Claudia leaving the library; he makes the decision not to tell her about the text.

He quickly puts his notes away, he’s been trying to keep anything about the journal or the book Martha gave him away from Claudia. She doesn’t need to deal with this; he smiles and starts the car while Claudia is opening the passenger side of the car. He takes in her bemused expression and hopes that everything went well. Claudia smiles at him, it’s brighter than any she’s ever had since Gemin went missing and it finally reaches her eyes. John cannot deny the feeling of relief that echoes throughout his whole body at her smile. 

“How was it?” John asks. 

“It was what I needed.” Claudia answers. 

John nods, “Good. That’s good.”

“Martha Matthews was there.” Claudia continued. “She thinks the Hales killed her daughter, I think they had something to do with Gemin.” 

John nodded, the drive home is silent; he doesn’t want to say anything that might ruin her mood. He believed the Hales were responsible as well, but he had no proof. Without proof he would be unable to make a case, he could only wait for one of the Hales to make a mistake.   
……………

Parrish had looked up everything he could about the archaeological dig, there is not much available but he has found a small article published about the importance of respecting the superstition of other cultures. The story mentioned in the article was very close to the one that he had been reading, he had at least a name.

A name meant he was closer to finding someone who knew how to make the shadow figure go away. 

He knew it could and had been sealed away, but the soul of the girl had been sealed with it as well. 

He knew that the shadow had attached itself to Void, but doubted he could or would be allowed to seal Void with the shadow. Whatever needed to be done was going to involve Void, and no one even wanted to admit to something being brought back. 

He closed his laptop and gracelessly plopped backwards on his bed. 

He needed a plan. 

One that he knew would involve talking to Void and at some point Peter, which he wanted to avoid. 

Because there was no polite and sympathetic way to bring up the topic to Peter, of an old one attaching themselves to your adopted son. He couldn’t just ask directly, he’d end up dead and buried in the backyard. He could try hinting at it, then still end up dead and buried in the backyard or he could remain quiet and not end up buried in the backyard. 

Parrish let out a groan of frustration, as he debated just asking Void, but that would mean finding or getting Void alone. So it would be Derek and not Peter who would be the one that killed him and buried him in the backyard. Knowing his luck they would bond over the experience. 

Letting out another groan of frustration Parrish reminded himself that he did have another option, he could do nothing. He could ignore what was happening, and just let it play out, but that would plague his conscience. He was in a no win situation, letting out another and louder groan of frustration he didn’t even flinch when Laura barged into his room. 

Laura didn’t waste any time on pleasantries as she blurted out her question. “So what happened last night?” 

Parrish keeps his sigh internal before responding. “Bad dream.”

Laura makes a scoffing noise, “Is that also what Void is able to do?”

Parrish looked at Laura and ignored her smug smirk before taking the bait. “Else he can do?” 

Laura smiles, knowing she has his attention. “Void can teleport, and be untraceable to our senses.”

Parrish thinks on her words, which almost explained why he had been the only one awake in the house last night. 

“At least that’s what Derek said.” Laura adds in defense to Parrish’s pensive face. 

“Did Derek mention anything about a shadow figure?” he asked.

Laura shakes her head before tilting her head and raising an eyebrow as she remembers something that her brother had mentioned. “But, Void’s magic is stronger, and Void has less control of it.” 

Parrish nodded, until he had evidence that couldn’t be explained away he needed to be quiet about what he knew. 

“So we just wait it out.” Parrish stated. 

Laura shrugged, “it won’t be that bad.” 

Parrish didn’t respond to that but he had the feeling that it was going to be bad, very, very bad.   
………………………….

Not that Lorraine was complaining, with her daughter and granddaughter living under her roof, having time for herself was becoming a rare thing. So when Natalie announced that she and Lydia had plans for the rest of the day, and would not be back until late afternoon, Lorraine already knew what she wanted to do. 

Once her daughter and granddaughter were gone, she made her way to her studio. 

In her studio, she tried not to think about the warning, its meaning or why it was sent to her. Whenever she did all she could focus on was the sound of the buzzing of flies. 

As Lorraine prepared to paint she focused on what she wanted to paint, she focused on the cabin by the lake and the sunsets she would watch from the front porch. As she painted she concentrated on the cabin by the lake, the sunset and Maddy sitting next to her smiling. 

It felt like she was there sitting on the wicker chair, she had found it on sale at the thrift shop, Maddy was sitting on the other one next to her. Maddy was sketching in her leather bound sketch book hands stained by the charcoal. Lorraine smiled, focusing on the smudged charcoal that was on Maddy’s check. 

“it wasn’t your fault then.” Maddy said. 

Lorraine looked back at the lake, watching the reflection of the colors on the still water. 

“It’s sill not your fault now.” Maddy added. 

Lorraine frowned, “you died.” 

“I did.” Maddy agreed. She placed the sketchbook down on her lap, “what’s happening, you have to remember you can stop it, you need to stop it.” Lorraine pursed his lips, Maddy handed her sketchbook to Lorraine. “You have to wake up the dreamer.”

Lorraine took the sketchbook, her fingers brushing against Maddys, as they did she could hear it. 

Hear what was under the buzzing from the flies housed in the corpse of Claudia son. She could hear the sound of gunfire, smell the undercurrent of fire and taste copper. 

Lorraine placed her paintbrush down before she stepped back from her painting; it was not the idealistic landscape she had been aiming for. Instead she painted a woman with blond hair lying on a dirt floor, throat torn out and eye sockets filled with flies. 

Lorraine quickly threw a cover over it, heading to the kitchen; she needed coffee with something stronger than creamer in it.   
……………………

Back in the library Meredith continues to type as the voices in her head have a conversation with themselves. To ensure that she is seen as crazy incase she has to respond, she keeps her head phones in, to anyone around it will seem like she is silently signing along to what she is listening to. This has saved her several times in the past. 

“We are no longer safe here; we must leave before it returns.”

“It has the hunter now.” 

There is a murmur of agreement between herself and the voices the library is no longer safe. Whatever is in Claudia is an infection that was passed to the hunter. Not just any hunter but one breed to kill hell hounds. 

“What about the reporter?”

Meredith knows who the voice is asking about. She has read some of his articles, all of them are focused on the bizarre and paranormal, anything that cannot be explained. 

“What good can he do?” 

“Someone should know what they did to us.”

“He can tell the story and help us.”

“Then he’d end up like all of us, dead and trapped.”

“Like we did?”

The voices grow quiet, Meredith looks towards the historian’s office, the door is closed but she knows the infection is spreading in the hunter. The hunter will never know until it is too late. 

“Hunters never travel alone.”

There is a brief pause in the conversation, letting Meredith rethink about the reporter. She could get his attention, she knows things that were left out of William Barrow’s journal, and she knows a few secret about Beacon hills. It would be enough to have him coming here, and drawing attention to whatever it is that is trying to gain a foothold in Beacon Hills. 

“It will get them as well, it will take what it wants and there will be nothing anyone can do to stop it.” 

“Only cowards have that view.”

Meredith ignores the voices as they argue, she sends out one last email before she signs out of her account. This will be the last time she uses the library, she packs up her belongings, ejects her flash drive and without looking back leaves.  
……..

While Stiles dreams of paper lanterns, he is not aware that he has been moved from his bed to Derek’s.   
That is a good thing considering what Derek is doing to keep himself busy. Derek is snapping cell phone pictures of stiles sleeping. 

While Derek amuses himself he thinks, since they have returned from Oak Creek, he hasn’t really had the chance or inclination to leave the house. So searching for a new skin for his mate, before his mating ceremony, has been put on a hold. Not a definite one, he will find a new skin for his mate one that isn’t a reminder of betrayal. 

He still has a month to find another skin for Stiles. 

Derek snaps another photo of Stiles cuddling with his pillow, Stiles mumbles into his pillow and smack his lips, Derek gives in and begins to film Stiles with his phone. His mate is adorable at times, Derek thinks, reminding himself again that if it weren’t for the constant reminder of betrayal, he would have accepted this change. 

Instead he wishes that he had torn out the witch’s throat with his teeth when he had the chance.

Stiles unaware of Derek's thoughts simply continues dreaming about paper lanterns, and a happily hopping paper frog that he made one night with his shadow.   
………………..

James has three children, two that are already teenagers, so he knows better than to try and tell Peter anything he does not want to hear, when Peter is in one of his moods. The moment Peter had walked in looking irritable, smug and annoyed. James had smiled at him and went back to work, silently hoping that the other pack members arrived soon. 

Peter removes one drawer from a dresser and walks out of the room, James looks at him and lifts up the other dresser, drawers and all and carries it into the hallway. 

“Derek won’t hurt Void, their mates.” James mentions casually to his fuming brother in law. 

“You never had to be alone with them.” Peter snaps. 

Peter knows very well what happens when Derek and Stiles are left alone, he had been there, living in the Inn and sharing a suite with them. The fact that Derek was still alive should show that Peter had more patience than anyone believed him to. 

James refuses to comment, all he can do is hope Derek is enjoying his time with his mate regardless of what Peter believes. 

Ten minutes after being alone with Peter, the master of the passive aggressive moods that freeze and burn at the same time, the others arrive. 

“Oh thank god.” James mumbles to himself. 

Peter’s response is to glower, not that James notices as he races out of the room and down the stairs.  
……………………

Downstairs in the front foyer being greeted by the alpha stood Joshua who by all appearance was uncomfortable. Joshua was the same age, built and height as Derek, the difference was the lighter skin, blond hair, green eyes and Joshua’s shy personality. 

Joshua had agreed to help his father and the others, because he was a good person, but he was rethinking it when his uncle, his father’s older brother, came barreling down the stairs towards him. Joshua suddenly remembered why he hid behind his parents during family gatherings. 

“Oh thank gods you brought it!” his uncle exclaimed loudly while making a snatching motion towards the stuffed animal. 

Joshua let out a small little epp like noise and clutched the Vulpix a little tighter to his chest. Which was useless since his uncle snatched it easily out of his hands and ran right back up the stairs. Leaving Joshua holding nothing, the young hell hound looked at his father who smiled at him. 

“Did he give you the chance to say hello?” his father asked. 

Joshua looked at his father with wide eyes while he shook his head. 

“James hasn’t changed.” Jacob stated smiling at Katherine, still in disbelief that his own brother was part of this serious and slightly terrifying family. 

Katherine smiled and thanked them for coming to help them.  
…………………………

Derek is slowly raising Stiles shirt up so he can take some “artistic” photos, when his father without knocking opens his door and throws a stuffed animal at him. Derek catches it with one hand and stares at his father who smiles at him and winks, before closing the door and running down the hall. 

Derek looks at the stuffed animal; it’s a Pokémon the one that Stiles wants. 

Derek internally debates giving the stuffed animal to his mate, he knows it will take away his mates attention from him and Derek does not like that. He glares at the stuffed animal that stares at him with a vacant smile. 

While Derek decides between beheading the stuffed animal and burying it in the woods, Stiles wakes up and shrieks and snatches the Vulpix out of his hands. Derek is radiating jealousy at the attention Stiles is giving the Vulpix who is cuddled against his mate’s chest and coos at it. 

Derek imagines all the ways he will destroy the smirking home wrecker. 

Stiles notices the look on Derek’s face, for the safely of his Vulpix Stiles lunges for his mate and proceeds to place kisses all over his face. 

The kisses start off as something innocent, but this time they are alone and won’t be interrupted, with that knowledge the tone of the kisses start change. 

As Derek maneuvers Stiles on to his back and roughly brushes the Vulpix on the floor, neither notices the lone fly that emerges from under the bed. It walks towards the Vulpix and crawls into the stuffed animal, burying itself deep into the stuffing. There it watches from as the kit is seduced by the hound. The kit is young and doesn’t understand the danger of the game the hound is playing. 

The hound wants to mate with his kit, and that is something the Nogitsune will never allow. 

So the fly watches as the Hound settles himself on the kit and listens at the noises the Kit makes. 

Derek slips one hand under Stiles shirt, the other goes to the back of Stiles head to keep it where Derek wants it. Derek’s grip tightens when Stiles hands move to grab at any part of Derek he can reach. 

Derek pins Stiles hips down when he tries to buck up and seek friction against him, this only makes Stiles start to twist his hips. Derek makes a strange rumbling noise before rolling his hips in a way that has Stiles making loud embarrassing noises. Derek can’t bring himself to care when Stiles claws at Derek shirt trying to get to get to bare skin.

Stiles let’s out a whine when Derek looks down at him smugly. 

“Derek.” Stiles whines as he tries to twist his hips again. “Please.” 

Neither has the chance to say or do more, before the gym bag and books there where on Derek’s desk are thrown to the floor. 

Derek half shifted and snarling lowers himself to cover and protect his mate with his body. “Was that you?” Derek growls out, as he curls tightly around his mate and presses down harder to keep Stiles still. 

“Derek?” Stiles whispers. 

“Stay on the bed.” Derek orders as he slowly moves off of Stiles.   
…………….

Noshiko feels the sensation of a tug. 

This tug is different than the one from her daughter; this tug is one that she hasn’t felt for ages. As Satomi drives she focuses on it, it feels stronger, angry, so very angry. 

Noshiko tries to concentrate on the tugging sensation, to locate where it is as she would for her daughter. 

A few minutes pass before Noshiko speaks, “We are getting closer.”

Satomi makes a tense noise in the back of her throat, Noshiko understands, they are getting closer to the Hales. If the Nogitsune is there this visit might turn deadly for them. 

“We meet with the Alpha and you introduce yourself, but we say nothing about the Nogitsune.” 

Noshiko nods in agreement to Satomi’s order.   
……………..

After drinking her “adult” version of coffee Lorraine returned to her studio and began the task of repainting the canvas white. She repainted the canvas for awhile, trying to understand the meaning behind what she had painted. The flies meant this was all tied together. 

Lorraine had finally finished repainting the canvas white before the sound of her daughter angrily admonishing Lydia interrupted. 

“I can’t believe you did that Lydia.” Lorraine hears Natalie admonishes loudly from the foyer.

Lorraine leaves her studio to make her way to the foyer. She can hear Lydia’s door slam and takes in how flustered Natalie is with whatever Lydia has done in a form of acting out. 

“She threw a tantrum in the library mom.” Natalie hisses, appalled and embarrassed at whatever scene Lydia caused in the library. “She just started screaming, she wouldn’t stop screaming.” Natalie brings one hand to her face, trying to calm herself down, “it wasn’t a normal scream mom.” 

“What happened before she screamed?” Lorraine asked understanding what her daughter meant. 

Natalie’s lips thin into a frown, her eyes are hard as she stares at her mother. Lorraine knows that look; seen it before on her own face when dealing with the supernatural. 

“I don’t know” Natalie hisses. 

Lorraine pulls Natalie into a hug. Natalie knows there had to have something at the library to have Lydia react, something Natalie couldn’t see. Lorraine will need to visit the library and see what sparked that reaction from her granddaughter. 

“I don’t want this for her.” Natalie mumbles into her mother’s shoulder. “I wanted her to be normal, why does it have to be her?” 

Lorraine doesn’t know how to answer her daughter’s question, but she understands it. Lydia is too young for this gift, and Lorraine feels that it is happening because something she has done. 

“Lydia is not alone, she has us, and she has the protection of the Hale pack.” Lorraine reminds her daughter, who scoffs at her words. 

“Who will protect her from that pack?” Natalie asks. 

Lorraine answers her daughters questions in a firm tone, “me.”  
………….

Peter is telling the other pack members where the furniture needs to go, since they seem incapable of finding the right place for the furniture themselves. His irritation is interrupted by the sound of Stiles screaming. Peter has heard Stiles scream before, he can tell the difference between each one of them, this scream has him sprinting towards Derek’s room. 

He like everyone else in the house can hear the sound of something heavy being thrown into a wall. 

Peter arrives before the rest of pack, going straight towards Stiles who is screaming on the floor outside of Derek’s bedroom. Derek is just outside the doorway snarling at something in the room, while Peter tries to calm stiles down, he glances a peek into the room. Embedded in the bedroom wall is Derek’s desk with a Vulpix perched on top of it seemingly staring at Derek.

“It’s alright.” Peter whispers to Stiles as he continues to try and calm him. Peter knows who did this; he can practically see the shadow in the Vulpix eyes. 

The others in the pack are torn between staring at the hysterical child Peter is clutching tightly to his chest and the desk embedded in Derek’s wall. 

What they try to look away from is the terrifying Vulpix that seems to loom over them all from its perch on the desk. James grabs Derek and pushes him towards Peter before entering the room to check for whatever had caused this. Derek looks at Peter, then at Void who is hiccuping against Peters shoulder. 

“James?” Jacob says as he enters after his brother. 

James grabs the Vulpix off the desk; he stares at the stuffed animal and shifts it around in his hands. Jacob grabs it from him, “The fox has magic, probably got to excited.” Jacob offers as an answer. James frowns at his brother, he thought that too but he thinks about Parrish, and all the secrecy. He looks at his brother-in-law who is keeping the stuffed animal in James hands in his sight. 

James makes eye contact with Peter, “it’s alright.”, Peter repeats to Stiles. 

“Yeah, I’ll have a talk with Derek so this won’t happen again.” James whispers.   
……………….

After work Kate stops at the café two blocks from her apartment, she orders a coffee and a pastry. While she waits she watches the television behind the counter. It’s been a few months but the news is continuing with the story of Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski. This time on the screen is the footage of Rafael McCall being escorted out of the FBI offices in DC. The host of the show has her hands pressed against together in a prayer and she announces that finally Rafael McCall is being labeled a suspect. 

Kate absently brushes her fingers against her paper cut, it had healed well but she had this strange feeling of something being off. She trusted her instincts; she needed to especially in Beacon Hills. Hunters and witches were banned from here, the supernatural was too organized and powerful, but here she was in Beacon Hills. 

Kate smiled at the waitress that brought her order, as she sends her brother a text message letting him know that everything is alright. A few minutes later he sends her a response that he is fine. She imagines her brother staring at the computer screen looking bored and irritated. 

It makes her coffee and pastry all that much sweeter.   
……………………

End Chapter 6


	7. The Conspiracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past behavior can determine future behavior, and gives you time to ensure you have a better plan, but you wont. Because you never learn.

“Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't.”   
― [ **Mark Twain**](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1244.Mark_Twain), [ **Following the Equator: A Journey Around the World**](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/200316)

**Chapter 7: The Conspiracy**

………………………

Three uneventful days after the last chapter

……………..

Claudia enjoyed her dreams.

In her dreams she has what she really wants, her son still alive and at home with her.  

In the real world, she didn’t know where her son was. 

Some part of her, deep down knew that he was dead, but she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge that out loud.  She couldn’t, she already knew how badly she had screwed up.  She didn’t need anyone else telling her how she had failed her own child and Scott.  Because of her John was throwing himself into his work. She avoided talking to her parents, didn’t need to hear the disappointment, the judgment and blame from them as well.

She had to live with that every day. 

So she slept, as much as she could because in her dreams, Gemin was there. 

Right now Gemin carried a bucket filled with large chalk towards her.

She smiled at the sight he made, the bucket was still a little too heavy for him, he carried it high against his chest with an intense look of concentration on his face. Taking the bucket of chalk from him she ran her hand along his hair, feeling the softness she had missed. 

“What did you want to draw?”  

“A doorway.” Gemin tells her holding his arms out as far as they can go, “A really, really big one.” He motions animated towards the plain wall behind him. 

This was another proof that this was a dream, Gemin was more interested in his father’s work than artistic endeavors. Which secretly pleased Claudia; she remembered stories about the more artistically inclined children.  Since this was a dream, she imagined this was her way of having one of those moments and not playing murder scene with action figures as Gemin took on the role of lead investigator.

“A doorway,” she repeated as he nodded, “we can make a doorway.”   

They both walk over to the wall that Gemin has chosen, he makes a big production of selecting the pieces of chalk they will use once she opens the bucket.  He hands her one piece while he takes another, as she begins drawing the doorframe, it is coming out smaller and wider than a normal doorway. He begins drawing little symbols around it; she can’t make out what they are.

“Where is this doorway going to go?”

Gemin stops what he is doing to stare at her. “Home.” he answers, eyes bright as he continues to stare at her.

“Home.” Claudia repeats before going back to working on the doorway. 

……………………….

At the same time Claudia is dreaming, in the apartment Kate is staying in , the hunter stares at one of the walls in her bedroom. 

The hunter is neither awake nor asleep, but in a state of in-between. 

In that state the words of the Nogitsune that fall from the hunters mouth are stronger.

The hunter cannot fight against it, regardless of breeding, so she stands facing the wall in her bedroom, mumbling forgotten words that still hold their meaning.  As she speaks, her skin grows pale, her appearance changes from perfect health, to the very image of death.   What keeps her from slipping into that death as the ritual continues is her ability to heal.

……………..

The Nogitsune watches all of this from his vessel, from his place atop of the dreamer’s desk.

His magic has been stretched thin, but this moment is worth it.  He knows the vixen that brought him into this world is here.  His outburst had briefly blinded him to her, and many things, but his most urgent goal was to complete his plan.  This move is not without cost, his hold on the dreamer is loosened, his connection with his kit will be weakened but he is not afraid of the vixen and her fireflies.

Claudia is the foothold he needs to break away from his prison.

The hunter is his power source.

Once the spell is complete one will continue to sleep and the other remains unaware.  Both there for his continuous use, and he has plans for that hunter.

Just as he does for Claudia, for now he will show her the mercy he had been deprived.

While he emerges he can keep her locked in a pleasant dream.  Keep her unknowing and unfeeling, asleep like the princess in one of the stories his kit read to him. 

He sits up in her body, so she fill not feel when the stained black wrappings spill out of her mouth, or hear the bones in her jaw pop and contort to allow larger sections to spill.  So she doesn’t see the burnt figure that crawls on burned and broken limbs out of the pile of black bile and wrappings that fall apart like brittle stone.  So she will not hear the sound of her skin and bone ripping and popping as it heals with his now freed form.

As he rises from his own ashes he glances at her, the mother of part of his kit.  He waits with her till the damage he had done to her is healed, he feels sympathy for her.  A small little tingle of emotion, he moves her into a more comfortable position, John continues to sleep on in his study unaware and unknowing, this is his mercy.

When she is healed and locked in her sleep he leaves in a cloud of shadow; he still has much to do.

The Vulpix on the dreamer’s desks falls to its side.

…………..

_They watch as the child runs, stumbling in the dark as he tries to escape whatever is chasing him in the woods._

_The grass is cold beneath the child’s bare feet, there isn’t even a moon to give the child some light, but he continues to run none the less.  To stop would mean declaring defeat, to allow himself to be caught and dragged back._

_He won’t, he can’t, not yet, not now._

_The wind picks up as the child runs desperately in to the night; his pajamas are meant for warm nights, tonight, is far from warm even for a child like him. They watch as the child runs along a path that seems to change, keeping him lost and trapped. When he stumbles over a root that had risen from the ground, he finds himself stuck on the vine that tripped him._

_The child pounds one hand on the ground and lets out a cry, a scream that has one of them moving towards him.  The child looks desperately up at the sky; there is no one who will come with the intention to save him.  He knows that what is chasing him is getting closer as the trees grow taller and block out the smallest of light the stars had provided him._

_The one who had moved closer to him kneels on the ground beside the child as he sniffs, trying to stop himself from crying, as he realizes with terrifying clarity that there is no escape. What is chasing him is playing with him, mocking him. But those that watch can only see, never interact and as one does, offering unheard words of comfort and pleas for the child to get up and run, to fight back. The child can only hold his breath when he can hear the sound of footsteps behind him._

_“Monster.”_

_The child doesn’t want to turn to see who is speaking to him, but he does._

_He doesn’t recognize the child who called him a monster, but he is familiar._

_The younger child points at him, openings his mouth as if to scream, but what follows is a whisper._

_“monster.”_

_“I’m not!” the child sobs back. ._

_“monster.”_

_“I’m not a monster!!”_

_The younger child shakes his head and continues calling him a monster, till a noise has him returning to face forward.  There is a distortion of a fox, its body a broken and distorted thing of what it had once been.  It snarls at him, the one who watches tries to move, to grab the child and place himself between the child and the monstrous creature.  It does nothing as the broken and disfigured fox moves closer and lunges as the younger child continues to whisper the word monster like a chant._

_The younger child and monstrous visage of a fox fade away in a cloud of smoke as a man none of the other watchers have seen before walks towards the child who is a sobbing wreck trapped on the ground._

_“That is what I am protecting you from.” The man tells the child as he gathers him into a comforting embrace.  “They’ll let the little witch trap you so the fox can devour you till there is nothing left. Only I can protect you, only I love you enough to.”_

_The child clings to the man, and disappears with him in a cloud of black smoke, leaving the watchers the only ones aware that they were even there._

_One of the watchers howls, as the others scream._

_………………._

The first thing Peter does when he opens his eyes is to automatically find Stiles. Who is not in bed and not in the room with a now opened bedroom door showing a dark hallway that for a child can easily frighten.

Peter races out of the room; fallowing the scent in the darkness of the hallways, to the very front of the house where Stiles has one hand on the doorknob and the other clings to the Vulpix. He doesn’t call out only moves quickly to scoops Stiles up and whisper crossly “What are you doing?” into the soft hair of the now struggling child.

Stiles struggles to keep his hold on the doorknob, but there is only so much he can do, before Peter easily pries Stiles fingers from the doorknob

“I have to find my shadow.” Stiles frantically tries to explain.

Peter ignores him, carries him kicking and screaming about his shadow, back to their room.

From the steps of the stairs Parrish watches, he can hear the others moving around in their rooms, debating whether to leave their rooms or just wait this out.  He is not alone on the steps; he can feel the glare from Derek and Laura behind him. 

“Was it like this at the Inn?” Parrish asks Derek.

Derek shakes his head, in the Inn, Void had disappeared and reappeared. Not tried to run out the front door and go chasing after his shadow in the night. The three of them stay there on the stairs listening to the door slam and lock, Void pleading to Peter that his shadow ran away and he has to find it.  They can hear Peter too, hear him try to soothe Void with promises that in the morning he will send someone out to look, that shadows don’t run away they always come back.

Parrish closes his eyes and shudders; he knows what Voids shadow looks like, now it is somewhere out there.  He hates how some part of him is grateful that it is not in the house.

“Did he really lose his shadow?” Laura asks.

She is under the impression that was given to her, Voids shadow is his magic, his way of dealing with it before he gains full control.  She remembers her brothers desk embedded in the wall, Void altering the preserve, she is worried this is his way of saying he either is losing control of that magic or is about to move to the next level with his magic.

“I don’t know.” Derek answers.

………………

Lydia walks to the side of the bed her mother is sleeping on.  She leans in close to her mother and whispers, Natalie’s eyes twitch behind her eyelids, before her eyes open to focus on Lydia.

“Lydia..what?” Natalie asks shrugging off the last binds of sleep to give her daughter her full attention.  

“Lorraine.” Lydia whispers as she points in the direction of Lorraine’s room

Natalie’s eyes widen, her first thought is her mother must be dead; the second, if she was there would have been a scream. Natalie moves quickly towards her mother’s room.  She opens the door to an empty bed and no sign of her mother in the room but the door to the master bathroom is open and the light is on, but there is no noise.

In the master bathroom the bathtub is filled with water, calm undisturbed water, at least was until two pair of pale blue tinted hands grasp the edges of the tub.  From that water Lorraine emerges, her mouth opened to scream but only choked out gasps emerge as she tries with shivering limbs to cold to be of use to pull herself out of the tub.

From the counter Maddy sits watching with a mournful smile. “You did it.” Maddy congratulates.

Natalie comes rushing into the bathroom to the sight of Lorraine struggling in the tub. 

Maddy watches from her spot on the counter as Natalie yelling the entire time, struggles to pull her mother out of the tub and onto the tiled floor.  She watches as Natalie dries her mother and wraps her in towels before helping her mother to the bed. 

“What were you thinking!!?” Natalie screams as she forces her mother into the robe and uses the towel to dry her as quickly as she can.  “You could have killed yourself, is that what you were trying, were you trying to kill yourself!!”

Lorraine smiles at her daughter who is half dragging, half carrying her to the bed. “I had to, for Ariel, for you, so you both would be safe.” Lorraine informs her daughter whose eyes reflect back with admiration, love and worry.  Lorraine takes hold of her daughters hand and squeezes it as she shakes; the shivers backed by more than just the cold. 

What warned her to stay away will know she didn’t heed his warning, it will come after her, and she needs to be ready. 

……………….

Noshiko stares out the window in the kitchen as she drinks her tea, the Nogitsune is aware she is here.

She had felt it lurking in the alphas house, felt its presence spike at the sound of the child.  The little fox, either the new vessel or something special to her mistake, a mistake she had believed herself to have corrected.  The child would be around Kira’s age, innocent and unknowing of what is lurking inside, or even believing the Nogitsune to be friend.  If the child is possessed she will have to kill him, her fireflies check the town at night, and keep constant vigilance on the child, without bringing suspicion to her or Satomi. 

The alpha was already suspicious of her. 

“Dreams that keep you from sleep can be warnings of time ahead.” Noshiko whispers to herself. 

Tonight she can feel it, the connection between her and the Nogitsune fluctuates, he is growing stronger and at times seems to be weaker.  From the window a firefly pulsates with a message, the child is not a vessel, not yet, and the presence of the Nogitsune has faded from the house.  He is on the run, or playing a game that she needs to prepare for.

“You are too loud for a Kitsune; I can hear you even in my sleep.” Satomi tells her old pack mate who is staring at the firefly that flutters away at her arrival.

“The Nogitsune is no longer in the alphas house.”

“The child?”

Noshiko gives Satomi a look that is part apologetic and cold hearted, “It would not matter if he hides in the form of an innocent child, I will end him.” Satomi stares back, “but he is not.”

Satomi nods, “Katherine is known to be soft on Void, for the Nogitsune to not be in him is a blessing.”

Noshiko looks back out of the window, her fireflies will continue to search the town and see if the Nogitsune returns for Void.

……………….

It’s the routine now that in the morning when Johns wakes, the first thing he does is check in on Claudia. 

Today he has an errand to run. 

He stretches in his chair before rising, he has a bit of a drive today and he ended up sleeping at his desk again.  He goes to Gemin’s room, where Claudia has been sleeping lately.  He won’t say anything about it, he can’t, he’s ended up sleeping in his study almost nightly.

He looks at her from the doorway, she’s asleep and he won’t disturb her.  She’s told him before how in her sleep she feels some peace, and he won’t take that from her.  He has his obsession with Gemin’s and Scott’s disappearance to fuel him, without it he might break.  He smiles sadly at her, mumbles that he loves her and closes the door behind him as he goes to prepare for his day. 

………….

In the Hale house, specifically the kitchen the chaos of preparing for school has begun. 

Sitting on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, Parrish was trying to eat and focus on what had happened last night.  While beside him Laura was yelling at Derek, for making her later to breakfast because he had been hogging the bathroom.  This left Cora with adequate time to eat every muffin that was set on the counter and Laura with none. 

Parrish ate his breakfast and tried to think, Void had been trying to leave to find his shadow.  Peter had made the excuse of reading Peter Pan and maybe focusing on some of the darker aspects, a mistake Peter had claimed in hindsight.  But there was something more, the feeling in his gut hinted at that. 

“Eat up, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” James told them. “First day back for you, so a little something extra.” James informed Derek who greedily took the plate of bacon.

Parrish blinked, Derek was returning to school.  They had finally been allowed back barely two weeks ago, and now so was Derek. Not that he was being negative, but he knew Derek well enough to know that if something bad was about to happen, Derek was the reason behind it. 

“This is great, the three of us together, going to school together, like old times.” Laura stated as she glared at her brother who was wasting no time on devouring the bacon.

Parrish nodded, “Like old times.”

“You know what else is also so great about Derek coming back to school with us?” Laura asked with a forced polite smile she had picked up from her mother, “we get to go to the library afterschool.” Laura happily informed them.  Derek looked up from the last piece of bacon to simply stare at her.  “Yep.” Laura continued elongating the sound of the p, “To the library for more books for Derek and all of us.”

James only smiles at them, and shoos them off, Cora is staying in since she is having some issues controlling her shift at the moment.  

The drive to school is done in silence.

Laura drives, Derek reads and Parrish contemplates the madness of anyone claiming there is a backseat in the Camaro. 

They pull into their usual spot, those that are aligned to them, acknowledge them, otherwise they are ignored, but when Derek gets out of the car, they can all hear the whispers start.

Some are about how Derek was so brave for coming back to school, some questioned if Derek really did it.

They ignore it, and Parrish climbed rather gracefully out of the backseat and headed towards the high school.

………

In her study, Katherine Hale sits behind her desk, thinking back on her conversation with Satomi and her guest as she also helps her daughter prepare for Derek’s and Voids ceremony. 

The visit had struck a nerve with her and left her feeling insulted.  She had every right to feel insulted, Satomi and Noshiko believed her to be an idiot.  She knew about the differences between the shifters, had literally sensed the interest from Noshiko about Void.  She could smell the magic radiating off the woman once Void had lost control of his magic. Hear the increase in her heart beat at hearing Void speak; Satomi had tried to play it off as curiosity from one shifter to another.

Katherine believed differently, there had been nothing about Noshiko in her son’s journals.  But dreamers didn’t follow an exact science, circumstances changed, and events could be altered by anything.  So she would keep the shifter close.  

Katherine sighed.

One positive thing was her grandsons’ interest in finding a new skin for void.  This she could handle, her daughter continuing to monitor the mating ceremonies progress was also welcome if not tiresome. 

Talia looked at her mother, binder in hand and ready to start the process of sending out the invites. 

“I’m having James deliver the invites today; by the end of the week everyone should have received or will be receiving their invite.” Talia explains, “I don’t know if we should have it here or at the Inn, we have more than enough room here.”

Katherine smiles indulgently at her daughter, she will speak to the Sheriff, he can look into who Satomi’s guest really is.

“Here is fine, I don’t think Derek would appreciate being at the Inn.” Katherine adds.

Talia thinks about it, “Memories always begin at home.”

…………….

Meredith keeps her headphones on her person all day and night.  Sometimes she doesn’t need them and other times she does, but today is different.  The voices are louder today; just a tad bit louder than the music she has playing.  She should be in the library hiding in her favorite corner, but the library is being used for the first two class periods of the day.  Meaning today, she needs to be in the classroom for those two before she can officially use her noise cancellation headphones and raise the volume to max on her iPod.

The voices weren’t talking to her but among themselves, all at once.

“What it really wants, what it killed me for is it’s kid.  It feed me to its kid because I was special meat!!”

“Can you feel it, the magic?”

“Eat, that’s what it told its kid, to eat me so he could be strong.”

“I can feel it, that charge in the air, that’s magic, strong old magic.”

“Magic, that’s all you talk about!”

“Today is a special day, the rebirth of something powerful.”

“That’s all you talk about, magic this and magic that, never mind the bodies all around us.”

“He’s one of them.”

“No one believed me when I told them, no one believed me. Look at their eyes, they glow, that’s how you know what kind they are.”

Meredith could feel the air seem to drain from the room, cold and something else fill in its place but the smell of it, rot and decay had her covering her nose. 

“No one will do anything until everyone can see.”

“He took everything from me.”

“Make them pay.”

Reaching into her pocket, she raised the volume on her iPod, today was not her day, she knew from the feeling in her gut it was only going to get worse as the day went on. 

In his usual spot behind Derek, Parrish tried to pay attention. 

Parrish was grateful that there was a substitute during first period, the substitute was happy to play the documentaries their teacher kept for the occasion.  He wanted, almost needed to have a conversation with Peter about what was happening. 

Last night the shadow figure that he had seen in the kitchen had left the house, had left Void.  So either it wasn’t attached to Void or ……or something that he couldn’t quite figure out.  It could be coming back, Parrish didn’t deny that, he kept his iPod charged, had taken to sleeping with his desk lamp on, and having his headphones on at all times when in the house as a precaution.

Letting out a deep breath Parrish glanced around the room. 

Some students were on their phones, other had their heads down, a few were watching the movie and one was listening to very loud music. He recognized her, from the times he had been at Dr. Valack’s for anger issues, she was a patient of his to, but Dr. Valack called her a schizophrenic.

Meredith was her name; he had seen her around occasionally in school.  She was writing something down furiously in her notebook, as she listened to loud classical music. 

Derek mumbled about how bored he was.  Parrish let out a noise of amusement in response.  He glanced at the clock, there were ten minutes left before the bell.

………..

Five miles outside of Beacon Hills there is a motel, its clean has 24 hour video surveillance and is outside of Beacon Hills city limits.  This is where Matthew “Matt” Daehler is staying as he investigates a few leads into a story that he is writing.  He is not unknown to the law enforcement of Beacon Hills, in fact he might even state that they are always on the lookout for him. But today is a little different, he sits waiting for someone to arrive in the dinner of the motel; gun tucked into the back of his jeans waist band, covered by the large wind breaker he wears.  Of course he does have a permit for it, and knows here he doesn’t have the luxury of not needing some form of protection. 

He has almost all the parts for his story, but there are little pieces that he needs, and feels this meeting with the deputy will help with those few missing pieces.  He watches a familiar car park, he waits as the deputy he’s been waiting for steps out and walks towards the dinner.  Matthew smiles, it’s been awhile since he had met with deputy Stilinski.

John says nothing as he sits across from Matthew Daehler.  He’s arrested the man a few times before; each arrested has taught the reporter nothing, except to be slicker.

“My condolences on your son, no one should have to go through what you are.” Matt begins as he opens his small notebook and presents it John. 

John takes it from him, looking through it as the waitress pours him a coffee and refills Matt’s cup.  There are references to lunar cycles, old gods, monsters, demons and those that were born from them. 

“I didn’t come here for fairy tales, you said you had information.” John puts in quickly; he will leave and call someone to arrest Matt if this is a hoax. 

“You ever hear of a man named Alexander Argent?” Matt begins, “he was what you might call a hunter, of a specific type of prey.  Those that had glowing eyes, were the things that went bump in the night.” Matt leans in knowing he has John’s attention, “he would hunt things like your son.”

Johns hand tightens on the small notebook, one piece of paper tears under his grip.

“I know your wife comes from a very specific blood line, always haunted by the words witch, gypsy, tainted.  I know her father is the head of a coven that you didn’t believe in but now you do.  Because here in Beacon Hills, everyday is a freaking Halloween party and your son is the witch.  One from a very specific blood line, here without the protection of a coven in Beacon Hills,” Matt takes a sip of his coffee as he leans back, John glares at him. 

“He’s a kid.” John hisses low, but Matt can see it, the look in Johns eyes the one he has seen in parents that know their kid is different, in all the worst ways from the other little snowflakes out there. 

“Wouldn’t matter to an Argent, and there is one, hiding in the ruins of Beacon Hills, the old town.  The one his grandfather, or great grandfather convinced one man to burn down with all the inhabitants in it.” Matt takes another sip of his coffee, watching the wheels turn in the deputy’s head.  “An Argent here in Beacon Hills when there are disappearances and a sudden suicide.  I mean how strange is it that the girlfriend of one of the Hales commits suicide in the woods, the same woods that the Hales live in.  The Hales response is to go on lockdown, and when they do go in to hiding, some kids, one with glowing eyes, playing in the woods disappear without a trace.”

John stares at his coffee, “because of the hellhounds.”

Matt smirks, “because of the Hales.”

John places his own notebook on the table, he knows about Matthew’s reputation in the industry for the strange and unexplained, before agreeing to make contact he had looked back at some of Daehler’s articles, and knew disturbingly, he needed someone like him to look at his son’s case.

“Gemin, was taken because of his eyes, because he was a child with glowing eyes in the preserve.” John summaries softly to himself, trying not to think what happened when the hunter found his prey.

Matt nodded, “I’ve seen some of the photos of the aftermath of an Argent hunting, unless they had someone else doing their dirty work, there will be nothing to find or connect them.”

“There is an Argent here.” John asks.

Matt nods, “A lot of the stories I’ve investigated involve hunters, or the things we don’t want to admit exist, but I know the Argents and Hales get mentioned quite a bit in those cases, and I am trying to stay on the Argents trail, but they are protected, both of them.” 

John frowned, protected meant untouchable. 

“I think if I can prove that an Argent was here at the same time the fire happened and when the disappearance and suicide happened, I can bring enough attention to them and let people know that a cult of mass murders are running around. All it takes is just a few people to whisper the right words and even the most protected of men are vulnerable.” Matt informed him, smiles as John notices image of the Argents family crest and looks like he just found revelation.  “This is where I need you and you need me.”

………..

During lunch the three of them sit together under the stairwell, Derek looks annoyed, Laura seems smug and Parrish is still trying to figure out what he is supposed to do.  They have their packed lunches, Derek eats his while trying to read a few pages from a new book he had somewhere.  Laura is gossiping about some wendigo that had an eating contest with a ghoul, and Parrish is still stuck on how to stop or survive the impending doom that is quickly coming their way.

“Do you think he really lost his shadow?” Parrish asks.

“You can’t lose a shadow.” Laura reminds.

Derek glares at the two of them briefly before going back to his book.  

“He has magic, doesn’t that change the rules?” Parrish asks.

Laura frowns, she has seen magic do things that she thought could and should be impossible.

“He has a shadow, I checked before breakfast.” Derek declares, ignoring how both Laura and Parrish stare at him, with the same look of creep and wondering on how he managed to do that.

“Well that clears the lost shadow business up.” Laura announces. “So Derek how far did you get with your young paramour?”

Parrish wants to gag, “I don’t want to know.”

Derek frowns part insulted, because his sister unknowingly called Void his mistress and now Parrish is looking like Derek’s mate is the most unattractive creature he has ever seen.  Which brings Derek to feeling threatened and paranoid about Parrish being interested in Void; Laura sees the expression on his face and cackles at her brother’s internal battle.

“It was chaste.” Derek hisses.

Parrish glares at both Hale siblings, Laura cackles harder when Derek glares right back at Parrish.

…….

In Eichen house a young man enters the building unnoticed and undisturbed, he has the required badges and the uniform in case he is stopped, what he wants is in the basement.  Before this was Eichen House, it was a prison where those the Hales could not control were kept and recently experimented on.  He has seen this place before, when one of his flies had followed Valack.  Now he wanted something that had been buried in the cellar, a simple little charm that a very angry witch once made. 

It had been used before to raise a monster to hunt and kill those its master wanted gone.  He had use for it now, to help him remain hidden as he fled with his kit.  Beacon Hills was not safe, but Oak Creek would be, the entire realm of it, and who would dare stand against one as old and powerful as him.

Aside from his suddenly irritable kit, who had been so used to his full attention, that being left alone for the first time was throwing a temper tantrum. He did not envy the hound who was the temporary care giver.  With the fireflies and the vixen now here chasing after him, being in a form that he couldn’t be tracked in was the safest.  Now that he was finally at full power and hidden, all by using the remnants of the same magic that trapped him before. 

For a non participant, Claudia was rich in magical knowledge. 

It was a pity about her son though; the child would have been brilliant, a vessel he would have worn to the end of days.  He smiled to himself as he entered the basement with no troubles and no fireflies.

………..

 

Meredith sits in the closet of the library knees to her chest and head against the cold wall.  Her iPod is no longer on full blast, but her hands still press her noise cancellation headphones to her ears.  The voices are quieter now but she can feel the need to slam her hands down and scream lessening.  

“Make them pay.”

“He killed me.”

“I was eaten.”

She keeps her eyes closed, uncaring that the librarian is passing by the open door every few minutes. 

“I know where he is.”

“They killed me.”

“Make them pay.”

Soon there is nothing but the music playing; and whispering voices that are easily drowned out she lets out a shaky sigh of relief. 

…………

In the historians office Katherine Price lounges comfortably in her desk chair, staring at her computer screen, today is a slow day and having access to the archives is a privilege she is not wasting, even if half of it is helping Chris gain access to it from his remote location.  The thought of her brother waiting with only a laptop and his phone to keep him occupied amused her.  Chris was always an active child, one that excelled in all things physical but asking him to sit and wait was difficult.  She remembers their tutors, each growing more haggard and annoyed with each passing day at her brother.

 Her attention is drawn to the sound of footsteps approaching her office; she minimizes her screen and waits for her door to open.  The door to her office opens quickly, in the doorway is a young man younger than her, with a press pass on the lanyard around his neck.  She can make out his name and the name of the paper he works for.  She is aware of the Independent News Service and the writer of a specific column, she manages to hide her irritates her that he is here.

“Katherine Price?” the young man asks with a charming smile, “I’m Matt Daehler from Independent News Service.”

“Did we have an appointment?” Katherine asks pleasantly.

He pauses, “No, did I need one?” he asks her looking innocently unsure.

Katherine keeps her pleasant smile, he doesn’t recognize her but he would recognize Chris, they had an altercation some time ago.   She wondering what he could possibly want, her first thought is about Paige or the missing boys. 

“No, how can I help you?” she answers.

Matt smiles, “I’m writing an article about the unexplained history of this town.”

“The unexplained?” she repeats confused.  She is not, but she wants to know what he is here for, and her instincts are telling her that Matt is going to be a problem.

Matt keeps a smile on his face as he repeats an obviously practiced statement.  “Monsters, demons, aliens, the things no one really wants to talk about because it seems crazy.” Matt continues, “I have this affinity for the bizarre and supernatural.” From the small messenger bag he is carrying he pulls out a small notepad and flips it open. “I really was hoping you could tell me about Alexander Argent.”

Katherine can feel the healed paper cut on her thumb begin to itch, she is already planning how to kill him, it wouldn’t be hard and no one would suspect her.  An animal attack, the accidental fall or injury and being left defenseless to the elements and nature, her smile gives nothing of her thoughts away.

“Alexander Argent,” she repeats with a smile, turning to type the name in her computer. “He doesn’t seem to be showing up in our archives is there a particular time frame or event?”

Matt looks at his notebook, “He should have been in Beacon Hills around the time of William Barrow, part of a hunting party that was attacked by a wild animal.”

Katherine looks at her computer again, looking for anything from that particular time.  “There is mention of a hunting party but all members were found dead, are you certain this is good information?”

“My information comes from William Barrow’s confession. 

Kate made a mental note to find out where Matt was staying, she had never heard of this confession, but somehow some second rate reporter had. 

“There are some records that haven’t been digitized yet, you are welcome to look through those.” Katherine offers. “There in the basement, if that isn’t a problem for you?”

Matt nods, “None.”

Katherine watches him go, under her desk she sends a brief message to her brother that they have a problem.

…………….

In the ruins of what had once been Beacon Hills, now a ghost town lost to the reclaiming of nature, Chris Argent sat in a newly fortified basement waiting impatiently for anything, as he again stared at the monitors the cameras he had set were feeding into.  Aside from one morbidly curious photographer, who had been taking pictures of the ghost town, entering the buildings and just looking around, there was nothing happening.   

His unmarked vehicle was camouflaged less than a mile from the town.  Which he was grateful for, or he would have tried to drive around the town and see what he was up against or get the layout for escapes if something went wrong and he needed to get his sister out.

Chris found himself thinking back to that hunt in Japan, it had been mentioned on the website, even some parts that he had left out.  He had run into a Kitsune there, he had worked with the Kitsune and the shifter that traveled with her. 

He didn’t bring them up to his father or sister, even his mother, he kept them a secret.  They hadn’t been there and wouldn’t have understood, both would have been hunted down.  He had kept his summary simple and played up the part about the human soul he couldn’t save.  No one had questioned him or asked for further explanations, that hunt had been a difficult one for him. 

His phone buzzed, his sister had texted him outside of their scheduled times.

That reporter from INS knows about Alexander Argent

Chris stares at the text, he knows her better than she knows herself.  She wants to do something, and she will do something, that might blow up in their faces.  But he could do nothing, not even call for help, they were alone here, and if he called his father, there would be war. Chris stares at his phone before texting back, and waits, hating the inability to do anything.

………

Derek browses the book shelves; he doesn’t know what books he wants to check out.  He swats at a fly that buzzes to close to his head, and in doing so, turns his head and he sees her. 

She is perfect, confident walk, beautiful and a much better skin than the one Void is currently wearing. 

He hates the skin Void is wearing, hates the way those eyes stare at him with a shadow of blame and coldness.  He supposes that he earned that in some way, being cruel and too demanding towards Void.

Everyone seems keen on reminding him daily that he must still think of Void as a babe, new to the world and unsure.  But Derek has already lived that before, and still feels the resentment of the betrayal his mate committed. The skin is a reminder, the union of the witch and his mate.  It irritates him, makes him cruel.

A vicious cycle, his uncle tells him. 

“Did you find anything?” Parrish asks, trying to not show that Laura sent him to ask since she didn’t want to ask again. 

Derek smirks, a slow thing that has the hair on Parrish’s neck stand.  Parrish looks in the direction that Derek is looking and sees the historian.  

“Void can kill you, he threw a desk at you when he got a little too excited, he’ll kill you if he even suspects what you are thinking.” Parrish whispers, hopping Derek will do the smart thing at least once. The look of stubborn determination and smug pride in Derek’s eyes and smirk as he looks at Parrish tells him, that no, Derek is not. 

 

…..end chapter 7


	8. Take My Hand and Trust Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “While we are free to choose our actions, we are not free to choose the consequences of our actions.”  
> \----Stephen R. Covey

Many years ago, on a cloudy day in June, in a gated community near the coastal cliffs, lived a young girl named Alice, who wandered further than she had ever been allowed to before. 

Her parents were busy with her new baby brother and had taken to falling asleep when he did. She was also supposed to be taking a nap but she didn’t want to anymore, since she was no longer a baby, since at seven she was almost an adult. She decided to sneak out of the house, go past the park in the middle of the houses and head towards a path she had knew some of the older children took. 

The path went down the cliffs to the beach, not the one everyone went to but a different one, it was supposed to be special. She had never been there but she had heard her father and uncle talk about it. No one was supposed to go down there, but today, she decided to be one of the few that had. 

She clung to the side of the path with the cliffs; she hadn’t imagined it would be this scary. Each step she took was slow and careful till she noticed the beach. The sand on the beach wasn’t the sand she was used to, this sand seemed dark almost black but it was shiny, and when she touched it, the sand felt soft and cool. 

She could not help but kneel down on the sand and play with it, trying and failing to make a castle. After her third attempt she heard a soft humming coming from the water. She walked to where it lapped against the rocks that outline the black sand. Her eyes went wide when she noticed the strange looking person in the water, still humming but staring at her. She wanted to lean forward and reach for the strange person in the water, but the loud growl stopped her. 

She wasn’t afraid of it, she had heard that growl before and it sounded far away. 

The sound of splashing brought her attention back to the strange person in the water. Who was closer to her now, with one of its webbed hands close to wrapping itself around her ankle.

“My name is Alice.” She told the person, it paused and tilted its head. “What’s your name.”, after she asked, the hand that was at her ankle moved back to the sand. 

It made some type of thrilling sound, like the dolphins on the video she had seen in class. The person was strange looking but it didn’t look like a dolphin. 

“You don’t look like a dolphin,” she told him as she touched the hand that beside her feet. “You’re cold.” she stated surprised, it must have been in the water for a very long time. 

The person made that thrilling sound again, but the roar was suddenly louder. She brought her hands to her ears to block out the sound, she didn’t really understand what happened next, but Satomi was lifting her into her arms and carrying her away. Telling her that she could never go back there, if she did no one not even Satomi could protect her. 

She said that she wouldn’t go back, promised Satomi and her parents and everyone seemed to be fine with that. What happened was never brought up again, and she could have believed that it had never happened. She would have, if a few nights later she hadn’t found the necklace hanging on the tree branch by her window with the pretty charm that had dark water in it.  
……

Once, Matthews’s life had been normal.

Once he had been naive and blissfully ignorant to the unexplained. 

That all changed on a cold Saturday night in February, during his junior year of high school. 

His story started with Alice’s story. 

Alice was just another missing person from Beacon Hills. She had disappeared after falling over board from some boat. That should have been where her story ended. Only someone on the boat had been recording and posted it online. 

On the video you could see her-Alice-looking afraid as she would glance at the water, her friend was telling her to relax and how everything was going to be fine. For a few minutes it seemed that it would, until you could hear something bump the boat a few times. Each bump was louder and more violent than the last. Alice keeps staring at the water, in the video you could hear her begging something to stop, gripping some necklace in a white knuckled grip. Soon the bumps where moving the boat, it became clear that whatever was bumping into the boat wanted to capsize it. Alice stumbles to the edge of the boat; looking over the edge with her hands reaching for something in the water. Barely a second passes before something in the water seems to be reaching back. It looked like the water itself was grabbing her by the arms and pulling her overboard into the water. She doesn’t even scream, but her friend does and the bumping stops.

Soon after the video came the links to Alice’s blog, once private had been copied and posted for the entire world to see. Alice claimed that when she was younger she had met a mermaid. 

Matt had taken to reading her blog, because it made sense that anyone who lived in Beacon Hills had to be crazy. 

Alice in her blog claimed that she would sneak out to visit with a mermaid. At first they had been friends, soon the mermaid had started to woo her, it had scared her and she had never gone back. But that hadn’t stopped anything, she could hear the mermaid singing to her, calling her, anywhere were there was water the calling was louder. One day she wrote that she had gone back to where it had all started to make the mermaid realize she wanted nothing to do with it, and that whatever it thought they had was over. That day was her last post, she had added how she was afraid of the mermaid, because the next time it was coming to take her away.  
…….

Years Earlier

Alice stares at her computer screen rereading her current post to her blog. 

She hates what she was done, her family has never been able to understand and she can’t explain it or give any form of excuse because she has none. She had been warned, she had been told over and over when she was younger the danger of the game she had no idea she was playing. She had thought she had made a friend who happened to be a mermaid. 

Once she had gotten wiser, she had foolishly believed that her simply saying no and keeping her distance would change anything but it hadn’t. She had managed to make it worse. She played with the small charm on her necklace, inside was a drop of water from its home. The charm gave it a connection to her, and her to it.

When she had been younger she had found this connection to be wonderful, it protected her, comforted her and played with her. 

As she got older, her feeling towards it changed. Maybe it had been how it would appear when she was in the shower or taking a bath, how what had been simply it watching over her was now it attempting to do things to her. She asked her father to turn off the water in her bathroom, she didn’t bring water into her room anymore and when it rained she made sure not even a drop could enter her room. 

There was nothing that could be done; she would have to accept that for the rest of her life she would live afraid of water. Because it was always there waiting and watching her, she knew that very well.

One day she had been unable to get out of gym class, on the day they were swimming but she had been allowed to stay out of the water. One of her classmates, a boy had asked her a simple innocent question about the assignment from last period, thinking nothing of it, she had answered. When that boy had jumped into the water, he hadn’t come back up; it was a few minutes before the coach had jumped in after him. She’ll never forget the cold feeling of horror when she heard him tell the coach it felt like something was keeping him pinned to the bottom of the pool. 

After that she had thrown the necklace off the cliff into the water yelling at the top of her lungs that it was over, she was done. She thought she was free, no necklace meant no connection. 

The next night when she had been brushing her teeth the shower had turned on, she had closed her eyes and waited. She tried not to cry when she felt the cold touch of its webbed fingers on her skin, on her neck as it tied the necklace back around her neck. She could feel it pressed against her back, she could feel it in her brain, singing to her. It was amused by her, but she knew that it would hurt anyone that stood in its way. She reached for her necklace trying to pull it off, but she couldn’t, and it laughed at her. 

She hadn’t listened when she was younger to the warnings and now there was no way out of this. 

It is growing tired of waiting, one day it will drags her kicking and screaming into the darkness with it.  
……

One month after that post she had disappeared into the water.

Her story left more questions than answers. 

The theories and rumors of what happened to her were numerous and were always quickly followed by the questions of the unexplained, and then the question of if there was life after death. 

On a whim of curiosity he and a few others had gone to see the lake where Alice had disappeared. To them it was no different than sneaking into a haunted building. It was supposed to be fun, an adventure, just them, their cell phones and the bravery of the ignorant. Nothing should have happened, nothing was supposed to happen. They were supposed to have gone home together and spent the rest of the time laughing. This was something they should have been remembering and joking about in disbelief during some high school reunion. 

At first nothing had, so they decided to camp out on the shore and head home in the afternoon. They had laughed and joked as they walked along the shore but that had changed when they saw her. 

Sitting alone in the dark a few yards away from their makeshift camp on the shore was a lone girl staring out at the still water, her pale skin almost glowing against her dark hair. 

They had been alarmed but not scared. They had rationalized that she might be someone who had wanted to see Alice. Or someone was playing a prank on them, since they were obviously looking for Alice. Matt joined his friends as they walked over to where the lone girl was. She turned to face them, it must have been the reflection from the water or something but her eyes looked black, liquid black. Stopping behind his friends he raised his camera and taken just one picture, something to mark the occurrence. It seemed like everything was going to be fine until the flash went off. 

When it went off, she screamed.

Screamed wasn’t the right word for the noise that she made. The noise she let out was meant as a warning, a threat, they were trespassing in her home. Matt will always remember the water, once still, was somehow grabbing them and pulling them under. 

The last image he saw before he died was her, standing and staring at them with something dark and humanoid at her knees, holding her tightly. 

Later he found himself in the hospital with his parents hovering over him. They filled in the gaps, he was the only one out of his five friends that had been found, a member of the search team had found him, clinging to life as he was floating, his camera stuck in some debris. That was what kept him afloat. 

He could never explain it or mention it to his parents, but he knew that he had died. Deep inside he knew he had been dead, he can’t explain why he had been revived or how. 

After that, he had gained a sort of sixth sense for the unexplained. 

It took him more than half a year before he went back. He took his camera and his long lens; he didn’t want to get to close to the water. The water wasn’t still, but the sandy shore was empty, he took a deep breath before he yelled at the top of his lungs. 

“I lived.” He continued to repeat till it went down to a whisper. “I lived.” 

He didn’t know how he relieved he felt when he received no response. He stood there for awhile before he decided to start taking pictures of the water. He waited a week before developing them, when he did he saw her. 

In the water a distance from him, visible only from the shoulders up was the girl. Same dark hair and unnaturally pale skin staring at him, on one of her shoulders was a scaled hand, he imagined it was pulling her down.  
.....

Now

Meredith lay on her bed, listening to music off her IPod when it suddenly stops. For a moment she thinks that she turned it off or restarted it by accident. Only it won’t turn back on, she is very careful with her IPod and something as careless as a low or dead battery would not happen. 

She knows that she had charged it, she didn’t think anyone had entered her bedroom and unplugged it. Frowning, she tries to turn it on again; she does this three times, on her last-fourth-attempt a noise filters through her headphones. The buzzing from the library is back, now on full blast, she tries to move her hands to pull the ear buds out, but nothing happens. She’s not in control of her body anymore, her hands move to the bed, resting on either side of her, as she lays there unmoving. 

This she thinks is what it must feel like to have sleep paralysis

She lays there staring up at the ceiling of her room, the buzzing echoing in her skull. But she can hear something else the sound of heels on tile flooring, the buzz of florescent lights, she knows there are two in the room. She hears the gun go off, the bullet that enters deep into someone else, they stumble and fall. 

“I feel that this is personal.” She hears the female say, as her heels click on the ground. “The whole going after my family and trying to make it seem like we are the monsters.” She hears the gun being cocked again; someone is trying to drag themselves away. “We hunt those monsters, save people, we do that!” Meredith tried again to move, again she found herself unable to, “My family is not the monsters in that story.”  
....

Lorraine sits in her studio, alone and silent, her daughter is in the living room watching a later segment about the kidnappings that had taken place in Beacon Hills and the questioning of Rafael McCall. An anonymous source had directed them to a discarded duffle bag with clothes the man had tried to get rid of. On the discarded clothes was the missing boys DNA. 

Lorraine doesn’t know who gave the police the information, but she knows it will take awhile for anyone to realize it’s too convenient and question it. But at least it keeps her daughter away for awhile, giving her time to just be alone. She paints randomly until the strangeness of the silence in the living room stops her. The lights in her studio flicker, she puts down her paint brushes and looks out into the hallway, the lights are still flickering. 

“Natalie?” Lorraine calls out. 

There is not answer given in return, she walks cautiously into the hallway to the living room her daughter had been in. The TV is still on, showing only static but there is no one in the living room.   
She stares at the TV when it flickers like the lights, she knows what this is. This is her vision, she can see the woman she had painted earlier, aiming the barrel of a gun at a man who is slouched against the wall hand clutched to his bleeding stomach, his other arm hangs limp at his side while it bleeds.

A man who she never seen enters the scene, he raises his hand in the air motioning the woman to stop, and she does. She just stands there, at attention waiting for her next order. “The reporter, so curious, I need that.” The man tells him, moving to kneel beside the reporter. “I need you, but not yet, not till your heart stops.” The man places something, a necklace around the reporter’s neck, smiling reassuringly as he does. “Then you will be useful to me.” 

“Thanks.” The reporter tells him on a shaky breath. 

The man pats the reporter on the cheek and smiles, before turning to the hunter. “Make sure she won’t speak of this.” the man orders. 

Lorraine is surprised when the woman turns to face her and with a speed to quick to follow shoots her.   
…..

Matt jolts awake surrounded by his research, his stomach and arm hurt; he rationalizes it as needing food and sleeping it on that arm. He glances at his phone realizing it had been almost six hours since he had entered the basement of the library. He had been going through documents and looking for the one he had been tipped off about, but so far nothing. He almost felt like this was a wild goose chase, or a trap. He frowned and rubbed his eyes, he needed a break and some coffee and maybe a holiday. 

He can hear his phone beeping; there is a message from the deputy, a lot of messages from the deputy. He goes through them; his eyes widening before he calls the deputy back and agrees to meet him at the hospital. 

From what he has heard, Claudia was found unresponsive in her son’s room; John had freaked out and called for an ambulance. The doctor tried to explain, that as far as they could tell she was in a coma there seemed to be no reason why or how. But John had an idea, the Argents were here, his son had been powerful witch and there were hellhounds. And his only real ally was the reporter who needed to get his ass to the hospital now.   
…


End file.
